The Scarlet Heart: An Inheritance Cycle Continuation: Book 2
by Kionzel
Summary: Perhaps the world of Alagaesia was too much for Faris. It left him stripped of his magic. Cursed with the visage of the monsters he's fighting, and now at the mercy of any who wield magic. Faris must investigate his strange rebirth, his purpose in the world, and the origins of The Scarlet Heart, and its enigmatic ruler, Jahat. Sequel to The Earthbound Journey: An Inher. Cyc. Cont.
1. Chapter 1

Pain, a burning, tearing pain. A pain so deep and sharp that he could hardly breathe. All Faris knew at the moment was that he was in pain, and that his magic was gone. His friends surrounded him, and he could even see his mother who gripped him and cried and pet his scarlet-red-hair. He closed his eyes, reaching for the part of his mind that let him access magic, the tiny portion of his mind that had been with him since he was born. The section of his mind he had sequestered Damien into in his foolishness. Try as he did, he felt nothing. He looked at his friends and family, concern and grief on their faces as they looked at his hurt, emaciated form. He wanted to be alone in his despair, he wanted to lash out to be left alone, to grieve alone.

"Guys…" He whispered, dropping the stone. As they looked at him, he cracked open a half smile. "You look like you're witnessing a funeral. What poor shmuck got all of you so worried?" Fighting through the tears attempting to well in his eyes he smiled as their faces half-softened, half-filled with relief.

His mother hugged him gently. "Faris… my baby boy… are you alright?"

Faris trembled as he hugged her back, keeping the hurt out of his voice, he half chuckled. "You should see the other guys…" His voice broke, "Sorry for worrying you…" Tears began streaming down his face.

"He needs rest." Sona gently said, putting down her staff. "He's survived the worst of it, and will live." She turned to Vulcan, "Thank you."

Vulcan gave a short bow, "No, it was my orodûm, my obligation." He looked at Faris, "Besides, Volund saved the boy's life, I just provided the energy to keep him from losing his life until then. And even then…" He looked down. Everyone quieted at this.

Faris felt an impotent rage, but even despite this, he spoke up. "Come on… guys?" He smiled, even as every second his soul tore at him. "I'm not stupid, I lost my magic." They flinched at the brusqueness of his statement; his voice flat.  
_I'm a failure, I'm a loser._  
"You guys won, you saved my lives."  
_Dying would have been better._  
"Other people died trying to save me, if loosing my magic saved my life, it was worth it, right?"  
_They must fear me, maybe it's better I'm without anything._  
"Besides, that shade was… dangerous, crazy, it's better I'm not a ticking timebomb right?"

"Actually…" Sona said with a pained expression. "No one reported the spirits leaving your body, while your personality and mannerisms seem to be normal, we can't yet make the determination…"

Faris looked at his friends, at his parents, then at Angela, Elva, and Solembum. He turned to stare at Sona. "Oh…" Crying freely now he smiled, "That's great, so, what cell will you put me in now?"

"No one's putting you anywhere!" His mother shouted, holding him close. "We…"

"We will have to keep a close eye on you Faris…" He turned to see Nasuada, who continued. "I'm sorry, you were imprisoned unfairly. Your trial was both a mix of petty revenge and politics. The ones behind it were punished. And Rembrant was executed for being a traitor, if that's any consolation."

Faris smiled, "It isn't, nor will it ever be." He looked into her eyes, and looked behind her, seeing her handmaiden Hannah, but not Trianna. Looking back into Nasuada's eyes, his smile broke. "But thank you for letting me know." He got himself out of his mother's grasp, the effort leaving him nearly exhausted. Lying back on the bed he looked at Venka, who was the most distraught, then to his father, who had a look of helpless anger and despair that Faris felt on the inside. "Anyways, I sincerely do thank you all, but let me sleep." Faris pulled the covers and turned, facing the opposite wall and closing his eyes.

Outside his room, and out of earshot, Haya whispered to Elva. "What was his greatest pain? I need to know."

Elva smiled at Haya, "That he wouldn't see his parents again."

Haya's eyes softened, but sharpened again, "You're lying to me."

Elva shook her head. "I'm half lying."

"Then what is he talking about! You knew this would happen! Didn't you!" Haya's anger made Elva flinch. "Was he a sacrifice to save this city! A necessary loss?"

"NO!" Elva shouted back, "No he wasn't! But this was the only option! If we tried to save him, we might have saved his magic, but then the city would have been destroyed, and the kingdom alongside it! Where would we have hidden, amongst the dwarves? Who are still fighting amongst themselves! The elves, would they even accept you?!"

Haya bristled, but before she could respond Bergan grabbed her hand, and made a subtle motion to the first years, who stood silent in a group, watching with confused eyes.

Gone were the competent magic users, at the moment children who almost lost a friend and now had to deal with a different trial.

"I knew we would be punished… but, we were…" Morgan trembled.

"It's my fault, I convinced you to come with me." Venka's tears dripped freely.

Katya sighed, "That's not fair though, we knew what we were getting into." She looked towards the room. "And Faris… he lost his magic."

"We… we don't know if it's Faris…" Nya trembled.

"How could you say that?" Morgan asked. "He's our friend, regardless, he kept himself from hurting us. He was fighting that thing."

"Yeah, but he was keeping secrets." Nya muttered, "You felt his mind, it was splintered, multiple… minds? Consciousnesses? It doesn't matter, they were fighting against that shade, yet, whenever we spoke to him, connected our minds, we didn't feel it, he didn't tell us? He didn't trust us." She grits her teeth. "He's not even grateful."

"Of course, he is!" Morgan exclaimed, "What are you talking a-"

"What would you do without your magic Morgan?" Bartholomew sighed, "Doesn't matter how gracious he is, we've seen it, mages who've committed grave crimes, stripped of their magic, they lose their sanity. Doesn't matter how strong of will he is, he must feel empty, especially if those… whatever it was, was tied to his magic." They continued to talk and argue.

"What is the plan?" Sona asked. It hurt her to see her daughter so crushed, and as a protector of life mage she felt responsible for every life she hadn't been able to save. Turning to Nasuada she asked for both direction and leadership.

"We need a new head of the 13." Nasuada raised a hand to Seya's and Sona's protests. "Jaya abdicated, he's taking responsibility for the attack getting as deep as it did, whilst navigating the majority of the blame to the anti-mage faction."

"He… he never cared about personal political power." Sona muttered bitterly. "One attack, and we're breaking apart like this."

Vulcan kept his thoughts to himself cursing the black hand under his breath with his worse dwarven oaths. "There is a reckoning, but first, we must rebuild."

Nasuada nodded. "Luckily, thanks to your efforts." She turned to Haya, Bergan, Angela, Solembum, and Elva, "The city's power core wasn't destroyed. They aimed for our train yard and technology district, our power core, and the main castle tower, our heart, mind, and soul, figuratively." She glances at Elva, "And much like Elva said, perhaps you would have been able to save your son had you not spent your time defending our city." She thought to her father's sacrifices, being unable to spend time with his daughter due to his concentration and work keeping the Varden together. She bowed, despite Sona's and her maid's protests. "We owe you a great debt, and I owe you, the greatest of apologies, I promised your son's safety Ard Amina."

"My name is Haya Ser, I cast that name away a long time ago." Haya responded simply. "And your apologies don't matter." She smiled bitterly, "You're going to take him away, to make sure he isn't a shade…"

Sona sighed, "If we see no signs for a month, he'll be fine, and we can release him. We have no precedent for someone returning to conciousness after losing their mind to shade hood."

Faris despite himself couldn't help but sit as the tears continued to stream down his eyes.

"Stop crying damnit!" He hissed to himself. "You're a tough one for crying out loud, the burrowing grubs didn't get you to break into sobs. Nearly dying… that's nothing, I can get back my magic."

"…No, you can't." Faris got up quickly, immediately regretting it as wracking migraines filled his head. He looked in anger as his eyes triangulated on the source of the voice.

"What do you want Jaya?"

"I… I wanted to apologize." Jaya's eyes betrayed a level of sadness.

"What?!" Faris laughed. "You?! Apologize?!" He laughed some more, "Fuck you, fuck this, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He cursed repeatedly. "You want to apologize? Why? Because I lost my magic, because I became one of the general populace that you obviously have a distaste for? Because I'm a cripple without magic now?" Faris laughed. "Because I'm a shade? Am I even alive?" He wipes his eyes.

Jaya remains silent for a bit, before speaking. "I… I calculated that the worst of it would be a missing limb, even maybe an almost destroyed mind. But not what happened to you. Even my team formulations were flawed. My teams would have been destroyed, they were split, and one half had been captured. It would have been a failed mission." He sighed, "If not for the distraction caused by your friends, and by…you."

"Fantastic, so you ultimately accomplished a great mission, recovered the package. The people will love that. The condemned criminal was actually a great hero. The villain tricked the people and jailed the boy, who was then kidnapped. But then the brave mage leader defended the city, found the boy innocent, then mounted a successful rescue. Then you punish the boy's friends to maintain control, and the boy lost his magic, so that's a variable gone. Success."

"Not successful." Jaya muttered.

"Oh? I thought you'd love the political spin this would bring about."

"Damnit boy, even I can't be that callous, not to someone who my daughter has regard for."

Faris grit his teeth. "I didn't want any of your attention like this, let me ask you something Jaya, why didn't any mages investigate the slums? I was gone from there for a month, 15 children died. 15 children who that bastard mad scientist tried to make into super-powered pawns for some great crusade against this blasted kingdom."

Jaya looked at him evenly, "It was the slums, who would care? They were poor people, outside the people's views. Magic gives them light, heat, and clean water, if they can't work to afford food, then there's nothing any of us owe them."

"What of those injured by the war." Faris demanded.

"They have families, and they were paid for their services."

"And the lame and physically deformed, you have the magic to heal them." Faris glared at him. "Jaya, this is magic! This isn't medicine! GODDAMN MAGIC!" He screamed loud enough to alert the others, who rushed to his room.

"Lord Jaya?!" Sona asked, "What are you doing?!"

"NO! No interruptions!" Faris demanded. "Magic drains our stamina, but if 10 mages need to use their magic to save 1 person, then we'll have 11 people for tomorrow."

"And what if one of the mages fall sick, that 1 person isn't guaranteed to have magic, or to be as skilled, if they don't have the resources…"

"And what of me. I have no real money of my own." Faris demanded.

"You're exemplary." Jaya stated simply, "You killed a member of the Black Hand, in fact, the fact you were punished for killing those vagabonds… It's a waste."

"It wasn't a waste." Faris roared, shocking everyone. He looked at them all with wild eyes. "No one is above the law! But no life is below it either!" He pounded his fist on the bed, wincing at the ache in his arms. "You bastards… with magic, you look down on them, they who lack the ability or will to make a choice. Because to you, you who have the strength, will, and at least minor talent, they who seem to not even try are deemed useless." He stared at his hands. "A woman dying of Murk became a scullery maid because as a housewife she couldn't just get a job in the city, and she couldn't afford to be away from her home in the time demanded of someone who donates energy to the power core in the center of the city. Her son would have been one of those children in a pit if I hadn't come that day and saved her life." Faris giggled, "And the only reason she even registered on my radar was because her husband was killed, killed for no reason!" An uncomfortable silence filled the room before Faris's voice filled it again. "You know how much she was going to be reimbursed? 10 gold, that would have lasted her a month. A month in this damn city you all prize so much. Her husband died, killed by bastard mages thinking he was a waste of space, and a child was going to end up like the others in that garrison because of it. Because you know what?" Faris smiled, "Mages don't regard nonmagic users on the same level. Sure, they are useful, to a point, you need bodies to fill a quota and to do manual labor. But that's it, you don't think they're as smart, can be as strong, or as skillful."

"That's not true!" Sona yelled.

"One-month Sona… tell me, how many inquiries where made to the slums, it is literally 5 city blocks away, it would take 20 minutes to make it to the slums, and an hour to pass from one end to the other. We had one month between when I made the report and was under directions to not leave the school, and when I re-entered the slums. We could have discovered this, a long time ago. And it's so easy, all you need to do is read a single man's mind. Get a warrant, check, you don't have to discriminate, you can tell what's in their mind, what they actually did."

"You're saying breaking the sanctity of their privacy." Jaya pointedly said.

Faris stared at the man with a newfound hatred, shivering slightly. "You… you piece of shit, how does that context matter, these men were, in front of me, going to kidnap a child, I can confirm that in the ancient language, my mind and memories as proof, the words of my friends. We had proof Jaya. Yet nothing was done. I'm not satisfied, I don't care that Rembrant is dead, I don't care, death was too good for that bastard! You're patting yourself on the back because mages have more rights? Because the city survived this onslaught? THOSE CHILDREN ARE GONE! MY MAGIC IS GONE! YOU CAN'T BRING THEM BACK! DON'T APOLOGIZE TO ME! PROSTRATE BEFORE ALL OF THEM, THOSE CHILDREN'S CORPSES, THOSE FORMER PARENTS, THE FAMILIES OF THE SOLDIERS AND MAGES KILLED BY THE ENHANCED CHILDREN! THEN RIP YOUR BASTARD HEART OUT!" Faris's heart beat so fast he could feel it in his chest, it was an incredibly tight feeling, almost like he couldn't breathe. "AND GET THE HELL OUT OF MY ROOM!"


	2. Chapter 2

_"__And that's my report."_ Vulcan nervously looked into the mirror. The person on the other side had a grim look on his face as he regarded Vulcan's statement.

"Three shades at the same time, and… even more where they rescued the boy?" The young man, a cross between human and elf rubbed a callused hand through his brown hair, turning slightly to regard his blue dragon before turning back to Vulcan. "And that boy… he turned to a shade, but, is conscious now, with his personality mostly normal, and with no magic, or drive to kill other people."

"Yes." Vulcan said, "But they want to keep him separated from his parents, isolated to determine whether he's actually sound of mind and spirit. Eragon-Elda, what should we do?"

Eragon sighed, "We can't do much. The boy's eyes and hair are red and glow supernaturally, and his skin is pale, pale as a corpse. Anyone seeing him would think he was a shade, and I can't risk you endangering yourself." Eragon crossed his arms, "What is the state of the city?"

"Luckily the damage is mostly superficial, it will take them maybe a week to fix, and the deaths can only total to a few hundred. Still a tragic loss, but comprised mostly of soldiers and volunteers defending key parts of the city."

"Were we able to interrogate any of the attackers?"

"Unfortunately, not, most killed themselves before being captured, and the few who were captured had blank minds."

Eragon looked in deep thought, before muttering, "Trianna…"

"Sir?"

"She wasn't… she wasn't a friend, and I can't say we were particularly close, but we both believed in the Varden, and in defeating Galbatorix, she was an ally who shared her mind with me to defeat Galbatorix's enemy mages." After a few more seconds he looked at Vulcan with a sad smile. "Sorry about this friend."

"No sir, it isn't trouble." Vulcan saluted, "At the moment, the peoples' morals are the most important, I'll remain and put on a positive attitude, at least all the way through the games."

"Thank you." Eragon smiled. "How is Orik?"

"My cousin… well, he's remained king. But the Dûrgrimst az sweldn rak Anhûin and Dûrgrimst Quan both call for his abdication. It's one thing when the clan that swears vengeance against all dragons is against you, but the religious order is the backbone of the Dwarves' culture. The mounting pressure is slowly strangling Orik's choices." He looked down.

"…Speak, you have something to say." Eragon smiled, his handsome features giving him an angelic appearance.

"Well… if you merely returned... Saphira is honored as the one who fixed and enhanced our great treasure the Isidar Mithrim. While it wouldn't fully quell their anger, they will be less vocal against Orik, as it was your coronation gift to fix it. And you are the one who slew the oath breaker."

Eragon smiled sadly, "I will return, but I can't, not yet. Not enough of the dragons are hatching, And the wild dragons who are hatching are rowdy, even Saphira is having trouble getting them in line. They fight each other more often than they go hunting." He sighed and Vulcan could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

"I'm sorry for taxing your mind." Vulcan bowed again. :I shouldn't overstep my station."

"No, you were my first disciple, and you will make a great leader of the rider order should anything happen to me. You look with a compassionate yet strong heart. As long as you keep those close to you, you will move along with great progress.

_Hmph… I've said that all the time._ Volund rumbled mentally.

"I assume Volund agrees." Eragon quipped with a smile.

Vulcan laughed. Putting two fingers to his lips, he began.

"_Atra esterni ono thelduin..." (May good fortune rule over you)_

"_Atra du evarínya ono varda!" (May the stars watch over you!)_

"_Un atra mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr." (And may peace live in your heart)_ Eragon's smile was the last image as the spell connecting them through the mirrors ended.

Vulcan sighed. "That poor boy…"

The poor boy in question, Faris, was able to move his legs with better strength, and after a week he was able to take short 5-minute walks once-a-day using a cane. His form and features caused the spreading of rumors and gossip amongst the staff and patients. His deep red eyes and hair and his ghost-pale skin filled them with dread. And the rumor that a shade was brought to the hospital seemed all but confirmed. The older patients avoided him, giving him dirty looks. The younger patients openly mocked him, and even threw trash his way, and even the staff would ignore his requests if Sona or another mage under her direct orders wasn't available.

"I need some ice for my knee please." Faris asked the nurse checking his vitals. She ignored him. Faris frowned. "Hello, please? My knee hurts, ice or something, it feels so slow and swollen…" The nurse finished jotting down the notes and left the room. He gave up calling after her and relaxed in bed. Trying to sleep. Eventually he couldn't help but open his eyes. Seeing her walk back in and drop an ice bag in the middle of the floor.

"A monster like you can get up and get it, or use your sorcery, right?" She looked at him with disgust.

Faris swallowed his rage, "If I was the big boogieman you thought I was, you'd have died on day two…" The woman paled and left the room quickly. Faris angrily forced himself out of the bed, hobbling to the ice. As he attempted to pick it up, he slipped. It was leaking. Falling to the ground he lay there in pain, winded, angry, and humiliated. "Fuck... you know what… fuck this…" He got up, hobbling to the exit of his room. He began shifting towards stairs, or a ramp, anything that would let him leave this blasted building. As he moved along, he saw a collapsed man. "Huh?!" He said, panicked. "Hey! Hey! You there! Are you okay?! He turned the figure to see an old man. Bringing his face to the man's mouth he could feel the man breathing, a soft, gentle thing. Sighing, Faris gently tapped the man. "Sir… sir… this isn't the right place to wake up."

Eventually, the man roused, "Huh… what? What's going on?" His eyes focused on Faris, and Faris held his breath, scared of the man's words. "Hello? Who're you? I can't see very well."

Faris looked shocked, the man's eyes on second glance were unfocused. _He must be blind._ "I'm Faris, another patient. Let me help you up.

"Oh? Thank you Faris, I must have fainted, I've been suffering from fainting lately."

"Oh… that's dangerous." Faris muttered. "Where's your nurse?"

The man laughed, "She's a nice lady, though, she's trying to earn the heart of one of the mage doctors."

Faris sighed in exasperation. "My nurse won't even get me ice properly."

The man smiled, "Have you been asking right?"

"I've been saying please…"

"That's not enough." The old man shook his head, "I can't see, but I assume there's something about your face that elicits terror? A terrible, ugly scar?"

"Something like that." Faris said.

"Pity, you sound so young. You must have been quite a looker before, probably had a few ladies interested in you."

Faris laughed. "Maybe one or two, I wasn't that popular before. Besides, it's not like it matters anymore…"

"It won't matter with that attitude." The old man sighed, "It's unfortunate, but it's human nature, you have to appeal to them, understand them, then try and empathize. They don't mean their cruelty often, especially if they're still young, it's either fear or lack of understanding, try to appeal. As long as it takes, patient kindness will win them over."

Faris smiled. "Thank you... err."

"Dante, you may call me Dante."

"Thank you, Dante." Faris smiled. He helped the man to his room, and to his bed, handing him a cup of water and some medicine by his table labeled for that day of the week.

"Thank you, child. See, with that same tenderness you helped me with, approach the nurses and other patients, they'll warm up to you."


	3. Chapter 3

"Have a good afternoon." Faris called to the nurse. She gave him a wry smile, but waved him a goodbye. Faris was sitting in the hospital garden with Dante. It had been halfway through his third week in the hospital, most of the staff and patients at the least ignored him. A few actually spoke to him. He had especially won the children over.

"Do a bird next!" Faris took the stiff parchment, folding it into an origami crane, handing it to the young girl, who giggled when she took it. "Thank you!" He smiled kindly in response.

"Glad you like it, go play with your friends." He saw her run to the other kids.

Dante sighed, "It looks like you've become used to this place. And your heart has softened a bit."

Faris sighed in return, "It was hard, and… thank you Dante. If not for you."

"Don't worry, don't let your red eyes and hair dictate how others treat you."

Faris flinched, "You knew?"

"I'm blind, not deaf." Dante laughed.

"But, if you knew, why would you associate with me?"

"Because I don't believe what they say."

"But…" Faris struggled with the words as he looked at his hands, "I am a shade, I am a monster…"

"So you say…" The old man laughed, "I don't think a monster would spend its time caring for an old man like me. Or doing requests for children. Nor would a monster have attempted to returned kindness for the cruelty they were subjected to in this hospital." He ruffled Faris's hair. "Regardless of what you believe is on the outside, what makes one a monster is on the inside."

Faris put a hand to his chest. "But…"

"Figuratively boy…"

Faris cracked a smile, "Okay, fine…"

The old man smiled. "Let us…" He frowned.

"Sir?" Faris asked.

"Hey, I told you to call me Dante, besides, it's nothing, just feeling a little nauseous."

"Let me get a nurse!" Faris got up. He had been getting stronger lately. But to his alarm the old man had been getting weaker and frailer.

"No no!" Dante admonished, "I'm fine, just old… let me get…to my room." Faris looked doubtful, but Dante got up. "Hmm… I'm so sore all over…"

Faris got up. "Let me at least help you sir."

"But your legs."

"I don't need my cane anymore."

They made their way to Dante's hospital room. Even the short 5-minute excursion left him short of breath.

"Dante?" Faris asked with worry.

"I'm… I'm fine…" Dante's face was sweating, and he looked ready to puke. His breathing rapid as if he had run a marathon. All of a sudden, his body began to spasm. Faris's eyes widened with alarm.

"No, nononono!" He struggled to keep Dante from hitting the ground, gently lowering him despite how much his recovering body protested. "Dante! Stay with me!" He turned towards the door. Grabbing a nurse, he yelled. "Do you know magic?! Dante's in trouble!" At the nurse's confusion he screamed, "The blind old man at room 114! Please! We don't have time!" The nurse shook her head.

"I'll get a doctor!" Faris rushed back into the room, bumping his knee into the wall and stumbling in. At that point he saw the old man coughing blood as he clutched his chest.

"Nono…it's… it's a heart attack, and… a punctured lung?! I don't know!" Faris unbuttoned the man's chest, pressing his hands together he began compressing the man's chest at regular intervals. Pausing every few seconds to give him air. "You'll make it!" He smiled, tears blurring his face. He was at it for minutes, 5 minutes? 10 minutes? He didn't know, but he had to save the man's life. "Come on!" He kept at it. "Where the hell's the doctor?!"

Eventually, his prayers were answered as a young man wearing the protector of life colors came into the room. "The nurse wasn't specific, she was in hysterics, what the hell is going on here?!" His voice was annoyed and tired. He looked at Faris, then did a double take. Faris's face and mouth had the old man's blood smeared all over, and his hands were pressing on the man's chest at regular intervals. Before Faris could open his mouth and say anything the man screamed out. "Jierda!" Faris felt his arms lose strength as they snapped in odd angles.

His scream was cut short by the man lifting him up with magic and forcing him to the wall. "What are y-" Before he could speak, he was silenced by the man's next spell.

"I knew it, you were warming up to the others, but I knew it was a trap, you were feeding on that man's blood and life."

_No!_ Faris felt tears freely streaming. _Worry about me later! Save him! Don't let Dante die!_

"Your legs and arms were too broken to heal within those three weeks. You were stealing his life!"

Faris's mind froze, he had been recovering at a faster pace when in the vicinity of the old man, had he truly been siphoning the man's life force? The idea horrified him. _But even then! Please! Heal him!_ He begged, he begged with all his mind, attempting to project his mind, even if it was in vain. Eventually guards entered the room, followed by a mage. The doctor turned to them.

"He killed this old man and was feasting on his blood and lifeforce!" Faris couldn't even shake his head.

The soldiers looked at the old man, and on the blood on Faris's face, pointing their spears at him. The mage turned to the doctor. "Thank you, we'll take over from here."

"Aren't you killing him right now?! He's a danger!"

The mage laughed, "Didn't you already check his mind? He has no magic." The mage entered Faris's mind with ease, but froze as he heard the words Faris screamed out in the ancient language. Turning to the doctor he calmly spoke. "Release him."

"What?!"

"Release him." The mage repeated. "Release him, right now." The doctor scowled, and Faris's body fell to the ground, like a puppet on strings, unfortunately he landed on his hands.

Faris woke up in a different room. Sona looking at him with a pained look. As Faris looked around, he spoke. "Dante, what happened to Dante?"

Sona bit her lower lip. "The doctor's been punished and terminated; he's been moved to mason status. The nurse for the patient in room 114 was found having relations with that doctor when she should have been looking for the signs of Dante's ailment, she's also been-"

"No!" Faris shouted, "That's not what I'm asking! You know it isn't!" He looked at her, "What, happened, to Dante?!" She simply stared at him.

"He was braindead, somehow, despite it being 50 minutes before we reached him, he had only been braindead for 20 minutes, what did you do, to keep him alive?"

Faris laughed. He was done. "AAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHH!" He screamed at her. Keeping her from asking any more questions, he screamed at her until she left the room, and screamed for a few minutes more until his exhaustion left him in weeping sobs. Eventually he fell asleep.

He woke up again to see Katya. Turning away he hissed. "What do you want?! Want to make fun of me too?! Want to see the big joke Faris Ser?! The monster that drains people's lives, that can't even attempt to save or sustain a life without being attacked?!"

Katya looked at him. "Faris, I'm so sorry, I heard from the other patients and staff that Dante was a good man."

"He was a great mind, he was kind, and thoughtful, and caring, and he didn't fear me…" Faris's eyes welled up again. "He cared about me… then he… aaaaaaaghnnn…" He couldn't even finish his sentences. "Why?! What did I do?! What sin?! Is it because I killed those men?!" Tears streamed down his face.

Katya sighed. "Faris… I understand you're in pain, but at the same time, what you did, you were able to keep him from reaching brain death, if not for that idiot who attacked you, Dante could have been saved, it's not your fault. It… really isn't…"

Faris glared at her. "Not my fault?!" He cried out, "I could have taught that nurse! Maybe she could have done it, then I'd have gotten he doctor. And I drain lifeforce it seems. Why else would…"

"Dante's nurse was negligent, I think my mom told you, but she spent more time being intimate with that doctor than checking Dante's vitals. She had no notes for the last week of his life. We could have done something to prevent his collapse. Faris…" She leaned down to his eyelevel. "Please, you need to tell me, what did you do? You kept his brain from running out of oxygen for thirty minutes."

Faris, breathing erratic, focused his mind. "CPR, I gave him chest compressions, sailors even do it, though they do it to help someone who's choking, but the pressure emulates the heartbeat, as long as air gets to the man's brain through a blood flow of some sort, you can keep him from dying as you replace or fix their heart." He smiled, eyes watering. "I could do it when I had magic, it saved my life when Alpha attacked me… but… I have nothing now, and that man died, he died under my watch Katya!" He put his hands to his face and hair, tearing at it. "Because of this! I'm a monster!"

Katya grabbed his hands. "Faris! You aren't a monster!" Faris struggled against her grip, arms powerless against hers. "Faris! Your movements are too violent! You'll hurt yourself!" She looked at his wild, distraught eyes, and saw how broken he was. "Faris… look at me…"

Faris kept his eyes away, "I don't want or need your pep talk." He muttered. "I'm a failure…I'm" He was interrupted by the door opening and closing, revealing Venka. "V-Venka…" He looked away.

"Faris…" She walked up to him. Katya backed away, leaving the room.

"Oh… so you saw my outburst didn't you, I bet my friends are all in that room." He smiled wryly, "I bet my parents see me, broken down like this… perfect, ju-" Venka smacked him hard. "…**OWW!**" He winced. "What the hell…"

"What the hell is wrong with you Faris?!" Venka yelled, "you were never this self-defeating!"

"You didn't know me evidently." Faris glared at Venka. "I'm always self-defeating, because I expected better from myself. But now… I can't even help someone with the skills in my hands. I didn't need to kill a shade, win a mage duel. All I had to do was continually press on a man's chest until help came. But he's dead Venka, and all because no one can trust, or care for someone like…" Before he could reach for his hair, Venka grabbed it.

"Faris… no, stop!" She snapped, "Don't hurt yourself, you did everything you could! We can't expect more from you! You are human! You aren't a monster, you aren't some superhuman, don't hold yourself to such high standards, you aren't god!"

"If I'm not god, what am I?" Faris sighed, "I'm not even normal, you know that, if I'm not a god, and I'm not a normal man, well, I'm obviously not a superhuman, so… that leaves monster. Or beast… or, insect."

Venka hugged him. "It… it hurts, it hurts that you couldn't save his life." Her tears hitting his shoulder.

"Ahh… aaahahhh…" Faris squeezed Venka tightly as he began to sob.


	4. Chapter 4

"What is this? Jaya?"

Faris stared at 8 people. He knew each and every one of them. 6 of them were guards that tortured him in Rembrant's prison. The other two were Dante's Nurse and the doctor who almost killed him and kept him from helping Dante. Even as he spoke to the former Lord Jaya, his eyes never left the 8 people he probably hated the most other than Dr. Mendel and Rembrant and himself.

"Catharsis. Those guards tried to separate themselves from Rembrant's crimes, but it's a short mind read away to determine what they did. If it's any consolation, the innocent ones were released from that prison and given work. No new additions to the slums, and the people of the slums are improving. In another week you can meet them, and return home." Jaya turned to the guards and the doctor and nurse. "As it is, I don't fully know what's going through your mind as you look at these people, but I know I couldn't tolerate their existence." He turned to Faris, smiling "What do you want to do to them?"

Faris closed his eyes, Damien, and now Dante, in his mind's eye. His eyes opened; the prisoners flinched as they saw his face. Faris turned to Jaya. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Jaya said quietly.

"Yes, nothing yet." Faris turned to them. "Because that's too good for you." He looked at them. _"Eka weohnata freohr ono_ _weohnata verkry freohr" (I will unite you with painful death, literal implication that what can be conceptually be thought of as a painful death will be united/brought to them)_ He smiled as the doctor and two of the guards flinched. "You know the ancient language, so you know I'm telling the truth. I'll wait, I'll wait till your happiest moments…" He leaned in. "I'll kill you then. I'll make it so you regret what brought you to this point. I'll make you wish you killed yourself." He turned to Jaya. "Take away their magic, their ability to speak of this conversation, and make them swear to not put themselves in any danger, make them swear also to keep themselves from trying to kill themselves. And make them swear to do their best to preserve their life. Especially for when I come for them." He looked at their fearful expressions. "I want you to know that I hate you, with everything I have, maybe more than I hate that bastard with the hawk eyes that gathered you before me." He smiled, "And I know that I hate you so much that killing you won't satisfy me, ever, and so, you who have earned this hatred of mine will live in constant fear, scared to form bonds, to love, to gain happiness, because once you do, I'll know, and I'll kill you at your happiest yet most unfulfilled." He looked at them one more time, "And, I won't forgive you, if I forgave you, I would have killed you already."

He left the room, feeling a rush of emotions come over him. Eventually, Jaya came out. "That was… an interesting choice."

"What… did you imagine I'd just kill them? Or let them go?" Faris looked back at the room.

"No… I knew it would be something, but still. Don't you fear they'd gather together to defend against you?"

"I don't care… leave me alone, I have to return to the hospital, right? 1 more week."

"No…" Jaya sighed, "You have been proven to not have magic, and to not be a shade, or at the least to not be dangerous."

"Oh?" Faris closed his eyes.

"If you had a smidge of magic, if anyone in your position had a smidge of magic, they would have torn that idiot's head from his body." Jaya looked back the door. "They will have memory of the encounter, but not of this location."

"Great…" Faris smiled lightly, "They know I have no magic because I didn't use it to kill, as opposed the fact I didn't heal myself, or try to heal Dante."

"…You aren't going to cry, are you?"

"If I cry in front of you Jaya, I'll kill you afterwards." Faris looked at him. "Don't try to endear yourself to me, I think you're worse than Uglauw and his men."

"Really?" Jaya asked with mock surprise.

"No, but I still think you're an awful person."

Jaya smirked and simply opened the main doors. Faris sighed, he didn't need the cane, but the protector of life mages who tended to him at the end gave it to him to use until he was fully mobile.

_"__I don't know why, but your body is extremely resistant to magic."_

_Faris scoffed, "That doctor was able to break my arms and pin me to a wall." _

_"__He had to resort to that because the words of death didn't work on you."_

_Faris's blood froze. "So… what, the words of death don't work?"_

_"__The amount of force required to kill you with any of those words of death, isn't enough to bypass whatever is resisting our magic. Anyone casting a spell on you, that will effect you on the inside, will require more effort than normal."_

Faris walked through the double doors, and was nearly tackled by his mom.

"Faris! Sweetie! Are you alright?!" Faris held his mom as she embraced him, and felt someone ruffle his hair. He looed to see his father.

"Hey dad, mom, yeah, I'm fine. How are you guys?" He had so many questions to ask them, he equally desired to be alone, he equally wanted to go after The Scarlet Heart, but he was tired.

"We are good. And we're planning on leaving the city soon."

"Leaving?" Faris asked.

Bergan smiled, "Your mother doesn't want to spend any longer than she has to in this city, and even I'm… apprehensive remaining. Nasuada's extended her grace to us personally, but we're still public enemies."

Faris squeezed his eyes shut. "So… I guess I'm coming with you, right?"

"You knew already?"

"I don't have magic, I have no reason to be in that school, and I committed a 'magic crime', even if I was exonerated due to the faulty nature of the majority of my charges, the school would expel me, and maybe even get rid of my magic. But it seems they were beaten to the punch in regards to my magic." Faris sighed, "When are we leaving."

"If we can, today." Haya said resolutely.

"Where is Angela, Solembum, and Elva?"

"They left."

Faris got out of his mom's embrace. "I understand…. But," he looked up at them hopefully, "Can I say goodbye to my friends?"

They nodded, walking with him to the school grounds, and stopping at the gate. "We can't go in there, technically we aren't public knowledge, so… it would be dangerous for everyone, but we'll be waiting out here."

Faris nodded and walked into the school, as he used his cane to move forward, he saw a few students here and there, luckily the hospital had given him a wrap to cover his scarlet hair, but his pale skin and red eyes still caused him to stand out.

"Faris?" Faris felt a hand on his shoulder and stiffened, turning to glare at Yacob.

"What do you want? You pompous piece of shit pearl initiate."

"Piece of shit copper initiate actually." Yacob laughed nervously, he was interrupted mid laugh by Faris's fist colliding with his face. As he hit the ground, he looked up to see Faris winding back his fist. Shutting his eyes, he prepared for the next strike, feeling nothing, he opened his eyes, and was punched again.

Faris was heaving eyes dilating rapidly as he stared at Yacob. "Don't talk to me like we're friends, and don't come near me, or touch me, ever again." He took out a rag and wiped Yacob's blood off his fist.

"I'm sorry." Yacob looked downcast.

"You had no problem trying to kill me earlier, so your 'remorse' is meaningless to me." Faris crunched up the rag and tossed it at Yacob, who simply stared at Faris's back until the youth rounded the corner, heading to his room.

Emptying his mind, Faris stepped in front of his door. Reaching his hand to open it, he remembered that he didn't have magic, the door wouldn't open for him. He smiled as he knocked on the door twice, and kept that smile as Alanna opened the door for him. "Oh… he-" He was about to put two fingers to his lips to begin the elvish greeting.

He was interrupted as she dragged him into the room and held him in a crushing embrace. Followed by Dusan, Morgan, Katya, Nya, Bartholomew, Seya, and Venka.

"Hey Faris, how are you doing?" Morgan began tentatively, holding up burnt cookies on a platter he offered some to Faris, "We tried cooking, but, we're terrible."

Faris burst into a slight giggle, taking a cookie, and immediately spitting it out. "What the hell?!" He laughed some more, "These are disgusting! How are they burnt and raw?!" He spit and laughed.

"Hey, Venka was the one who claimed to have perfectly memorized your recipes Faris." Morgan held his hands up. "All we did was mix the ingredients."

"All I did was set the plates." Nya claimed.

Faris turned to look at the table, then gave a sidelong glance at the cracked plates hidden in the corner of the room. "Set the plates…"

The food was terrible, it was terribly prepared, terribly put together, and terribly arranged. To top it off, half of it tasted terrible, the other half was bland.

"This was… a terrible going away party." Seya muttered after a while.

"You were going to make him cook!" Nya shouted.

"Well at least then the food would be good! And we could spend more time together." They were silent again.

"Hey…" Faris looked at them, smiling, "It's not like it's goodbye forever, I know Alanna and Dusan will have to return to Du Weldenvarden soon, but it's not like they and we will always be out of touch, we can communicate via mirrors. And I can always visit you." They looked away. "What?"

"If you aren't a state mage, a member of Du Vrangr Gata, a soldier or guard with business on the school grounds, a student, teacher, or faculty/ staff member, you can't enter the school grounds." Bartholomew sighed, "My mother, when she was… still here, she could only walk me to the gate, and my brothers couldn't visit. I haven't seen them in a year."

"That doesn't mean we won't see each other again!" Katya corrected, "But, it means we can't see each other again soon."

A depressive mood filled the room afterwards. A mood unshaken even as Faris's friends laughed, cried, and laughed some more, they helped him pack, and he turned to leave. Venka offered to come with him, and the two of them made their way through the school grounds to the gate where Faris's parents would be waiting.

"This is my fault…" Venka said.

"It really isn't, anything or anyone targeting you did so because of what you were born with." Faris laughed, "I was targeted because of my choices, maybe fate didn't want me to be exceptional, maybe I should have been an aspiring minstrel and left everything else alone."

"A minstrel didn't save my life Faris, you did."

"A minstrel didn't drive your psychopathic teacher to move whatever plans she had up a notch." Faris muttered, "I did." He sighed, "And, I can't begin to apologize enough for what I did to you."

"And now you have to leave…" She said sadly.

"I have no choice, I can't be a mage, what reason do I have to stay in this city?"

Venka bit her lip. "You have at least one reason."

Faris squeezed her hand, "I know, but…" he laughed, "Would it even work out?"

They reached Faris's parents, and Venka was the first to let go of Faris's hands. "See you later, Faris Ser, thank you for the time spent."

Faris bowed, "And thank you, Venka Ailasdaughter." He hugged her, and couldn't help but look at her small back as she turned to leave, forearm covering her eyes.

They made their way through the city, reaching the stables. "Alright, which horse do you want to ride in?" Bergan asked. There was a black mare, and a chestnut brown gelding. Faris walked up to the horses, patting their sides as he whispered comforting words in the ancient language. They held no power, but were still truths.

As he looked into the horse's eyes, he looked at his father, and at his mother. "Neither."

"Do you want your own horse?" His mother asked.

"I want to stay."

A tense silence filled the air as Bergan looked to his wife.

"Don't be ridiculous." Haya reached out to her son. Faris moved away. "Faris?" She asked, growing incredulous.

Faris shook his head, "I'm sorry mom, I know you guys came all the way here, and that I almost died, but I can't leave, I can't leave this city feeling so powerless."

"Is this about losing your magic? Angela can brew potions, it may take years, but you could recover magic!" Haya looked scared and started growing hysterical.

"No mom, it's not that."

"Oh! Then is it that you want to abandon your mother and father! Like you did when you were young!" Faris flinched, causing Haya to put her hand to her mouth. "Wait, no… I didn't mean it like that…"

"Mom." Faris continued, "I can't leave this city, you heard why I was arrested, and what I did, and you know why I did it. They've done nothing for the people, even after all this time. I don't even know how Dustin and Martha are doing."

Haya sighed, "You, you want to remain in the city to protect them?"

"Not just them mom, all of them. Uglauw and his men were made because they felt hopeless, and they turned to crime, I can't get rid of all crime, and I can't hope to reform all the criminals, but I can save more than 0 if I remain, I can introduce things I've been thinking about, ideas to smith, tools to improve farming and general lively hood. Reforms to fix this city, and from the city, have them spread onwards. The people in the slums are normally either too weak to far, or too impaired to do clerical work. There has to be jobs and career paths that can be made to suit them, and if not suit them, then to let them get by, to put food on the table. To keep their children from starving or turning to crime or selling themselves. To keep their men from extorting the already poor to feed their own families."

"This isn't your responsibility." Haya continued.

"It isn't but I chose to make it be. Mom," He smiled sadly, "My choices brought me here, I chose to show up Venka, she attacked and began harassing me as a reaction, which ultimately brought on Anya's ire. I fought Anya, and so came under the radar of the mages when I arrived here. I agreed to fight Rembrant's son Yacob in the mage duel, and I chose to humiliate Rembrant. I chose to find that garrison, and ki-" He looked at his mom's distraught face, "And I chose to kill those murderers and thieves. I broke a law, whether I was thinking of the consequences, I took human lives, I have a responsibility to see this through before the kids I fed a month ago end up being killed by someone just like me because they felt they had no choice but to take from others."

"You don't know that's what will happen son." Bergan began, but he was smiling at him.

Faris smiled back, "I know, but if I'm there, I know it won't happen."

Haya turned to Bergan, "You can't be serious, here can you?! How could you even think about-"

Bergan hugged Haya, "he inherited your stubbornness and my ignorance of danger."

"That just means we need to keep a closer eye on him!"

"But he inherited your sharp mind and my instinct." Bergan continued.

"But, he'll"

"I believe in our son, don't you?" After some time, Haya nodded. Bergan smiled, then turned to Faris. "Good, son, be responsible, be careful, and if you need a place to stay, Gurant will happily take you in, he was my blacksmith master, and I was his apprentice for 5 years after the war ended. And son." He winked, "Don't play with the lady's heart now."

Faris turned red, which shown fiercely through his pale skin. "Daaaaad!" He moaned.

Bergan laughed, "Oh, and be sure to visit your baby sister."

Faris froze, and looked at his mom's stomach, just now noticing the tell-tale signs of a baby.

"19 weeks, past the halfway point. Angela determines it will be a girl. A girl a bit more trouble than even you were Faris."

Faris sighed, waiving off his parents as they road out of town. He felt tears welling up, but they were happy tears as he turned back towards the school. The signs of rebuilding were all around him, people gathering rubble to see what could be pieced back together, roads and signs and stores and even carriages being put back together. People hard at work, a few waiving to him, he waived back, happy the cloak hid his hair. He made it back to the school, entering it, he made his way towards his room with a purpose. He bumped past Rakus, the bumbling old man that was Morgan's grandfather looked at him crossly.

"Faris! You can't be here! You've lost your magic, haven't you?!"

"Lord Rakus!" Sona shouted in exasperation, "Please! Hold your tongue! I swear you have no filter."

Faris merely laughed, "Yeah, I have no magic, but I don't need magic to say hello to my friends, or join the Knight Training."

Sona raised an eyebrow, "And your parents approve?"

"Of course not, my mother's worried sick, my father respects my wishes but even he probably thinks I'm crazy, I'm not even staying for the school, I'm staying to save those slums, and to be with my friends, but I'll need money, connections, and some political clout. If I can't get that through you all, then I'll do it my way."

"But… the knights are heavily under the power of the anti-mage faction." Sona quickly shouted after Faris as he walked. "You can't just join them!"

"Watch me…"

Faris made it to his room, he hesitated, scared to open the door, as he raised his hand to rap the wooden door Venka opened it, a look of shock on her face.

"Hey V, looks like I'm not completely leaving."


	5. Chapter 5

Venka tacked Faris, nearly pinning him to a wall.

"Huh?! Wait!" Faris fell over as Venka did nothing but hug him tightly. "Venka! Hey! Wait! I literally can't breathe!"

After a minute Venka let him go, Faris dry heaved once, twice, then a third time over. "S-sorry, I was just scared, I thought was a trick, so I didn't want to let go."

"Let go?! You almost made me 'let go' of life!" Faris retorted, massaging his neck.

Venka put her hands behind her back, fidgeting excitedly. "But this means you're back, right?! How did it happen?! Do you still have a bit of magic or something?!" Faris held his hands up.

"Kinda, long story, no." He shook his head, "I didn't get my magic back, so I can't stay here, but I can stay in the city. I will live with Gurant."

"Who?" Venka cocked her head.

"The old man who forged my cannons."

"Oh, the grizzled fellow with a rude voice, he was with Martha and Dustin, and this white-haired girl and black-haired lady."

"That was Uglauw's wife and daughter." Faris continued, he shook his head. "Anyways, I'll live with him for the time being, and I'll become his apprentice, but I also need money and connections to fix the slums. I can't let what happened there happen again."

"But you need money, right? I can get some, I can donate magic to Bartholomew for cash and…"

"No, I have to do it myself, it has to be my money or my connections, I don't have magic, I'm not a mage, I already promised myself this, that I'm tackling the issue as Faris the exemplary human being, and not Faris the friend of exemplary mages."

"What about Faris the friend of the super powerful and pretty mage Venka."

"Faris the friend of the super powerful and pretty mage Venka, who also doesn't want to get her involved because he doesn't want her to get hurt or be put at risk politically."

"What if Venka the super powerful and pretty mage wants to be put at risk because she wants to help her friend?"

Faris smiled, "Then Faris the friend of the super powerful and pretty mage Venka would have no choice but to…" He tickled her sides causing her to giggle hysterically. Easing up after a minute, he sighed. "Venka, this isn't a forever goodbye, this is probably the easiest way for me to get anything done, other than being adopted into a family or married into a family.

Venka looked serious as she spoke, "You could marry into my family, I'm technically Roran's niece. That would be enough political clout to-"

"Venka, you're 13."

"And what, you're only 11."

"No, and you know that, I'm… I don't know what I am, how my age mixes, regardless of it, I'm certainly not at the mental level of a 16-year-old anymore."

"Well, no, you're immature and rash, no matter how much life experience you really have, your brain hasn't fully developed. That's what I learned in the Protector of Life class, that the brain doesn't stop developing until a few years after the beginning of adult hood. What, is the idea of marrying me repugnant?"

"We had a similar conversation several months, and no, it isn't." Faris sighed, "But, no, I can't do that in good conscious, even if I care for you."

"Oh… so I'm ugly…"

"Well… I didn't want to admit it." Faris smirked at Venka's distraught face, "I'm joking! I'm joking!" He dodged an annoyed swipe from Venka.

"Hmph!" She looked away, annoyed. "Fine then, you'll live with Gurant, but you'll have to show me where he lives."

Faris smiled, "I'll have to find it first."

"What?!"

They made their way to the blacksmith district. The sound of forge fires burning, hot metal being quenched, and hammers striking iron filled the air. Faris walked towards a large shop in the middle, Venka followed after him apprehensively. Inside was an old man with wiry, wispy hair. He was slowly molding a metal bar in on itself to create a cylinder after increasing the heat to the point that the metal gleamed in an orange and white light, he curved it into a cylindrical shape, attaching it to a longer cylinder. After a few seconds the light began to slightly dim. The old man turned at that moment, and when his eyes landed on Faris, his eyes lit up.

"You! You're back!" He walked forward, ruffling Faris's blood-red hair. "Good! What design do you have for me now?"

"Actually, more than that, I was wondering if you were taking apprentices."

"Apprentices?!" The old man exclaimed, "Only if it's you." Faris laughed.

"That's good, I guess, I also need a place to stay, I… I lost my magic."

The old man pondered for a few seconds. "Hrmm… fine, I suppose I can feed more mouths." He looked at Venka, "But not her, I don't want any thing going on within my home!"

Venka stammered out nonsense words and turned bright red. "T-that's not going to happen! What's wrong with you, old man?!"

Faris held in a laugh, following behind Gurant and an irate Venka.

"This… this is your home?" Venka looked at the dirty housing complex Gurant walked up to.

"Well, it's cleaner on the inside, and I never invited you to live here."

"Well of course it should be cleaner on the inside." Venka muttered. "I thought Faris was going somewhere to live not to become the next case of Murk."

Faris followed the old man upstairs. "You were saying extra mouths…" he looked in incredulously as he saw Martha cooking, Yura cleaning, and their children, Dustin and the albino Nina, playing in the living room.

"Uh…"

"Some goons were after Martha and Dustin, and their home was destroyed. I knew her husband, replaced some carriage spokes for him once, a good man. As for that lass?" He looked over to Yura. "Some girl with purple eyes dumped her on me, said you'd be back."

"And you just took them in?" Faris asked.

"Hey, they can cook and clean, and their children aren't completely messy… so it's not, all too bad, it reminds me of my son and daughter in law..." His eyes soften. "Anyways." He clears his throat. "They share a room with the kids, and there's one more free room. Oi… I'll need to expand this house again." He sighs.

"When you do, I'll be here to help you, master."

"Oho…" Gurant smirked, "Alright kid, I'll take you up on that…"

After setting up his room and setting a schedule to help Gurant and learn from Gurant, Faris made his way over to a train station.

"Are you sure you don't need my help?" Venka asked again.

"Rather than help, I'm worried your presence will lead to issues, I heard you made a name for yourself when I was being arrested and during my arrest Venka." She looked away. Faris hugged her. "Hey, it's alright, I'll be there, I'll be learning. But we'll be friends, we're only a few blocks away and can meet up on rest days. You don't have to worry about losing my cooking forever."

"It's not about the damn cooking."

"Blessed cooking." Faris quipped, "but, I understand, I'll be back to let you guys know how I did."

The train ride was uneventful, except for a few passengers making some notice of his eyes and skin, he ignored them, watching as the building changed in design, taking more rustic looks as he reached one of the oldest districts in the capital. As he got off, he saw a sprawling field, filled with various items, obstacles, and people. He made his way towards what looked like soldier barracks. He made his way towards a group of men practicing swordsmanship.

They eyed him coolly, waiting before he was in earshot before one quipped up. "Hey, it looks like someone dropped a baby off at the training yard." This elicited chuckles as one of them turned to Faris.

"Hey, visiting hours are over kid, if your dad or mum work her just wait for them at home… hm?" He peered at Faris's face, his bright red eyes and pale skin was disconcerting. "And what the fuck happened to you kid?"

Faris ignored his questions. "I'm looking for Headmaster Donovan. Is he here?"

The men laughed. "Headmaster Donovan will only be referred to as Lord Donovan to those outside this prestigious academy."

"Yes, hence why I called him, Headmaster Donovan." Faris put his hands to his hips. "I'm a recruit, my name is Faris Ser, have him look me up on the registration logs."

The men laughed, except for one. "Wait… you're the boy behind that slum incident!" The other men stopped laughing. "What the hell are you doing here?! Haven't you done enough?! Killer?!"

"If you end a man's life outside the law you are a killer, if you end a man's life within the law, you're a guard, a judge, or an executioner. If you end a man's life in the middle of battle, you're a soldier, if you end a nation, you're a war hero." The men flinched at Faris's words. "So, it's a matter of perspective." Faris smiled. "I'm willing to wait while someone comes."

Light poured through the windows into the office. A man with a salt and pepper beard poured over notes and writings. He made notes, full of logistics, first-hand accounts of morale and war conditions. Weather reports and supply updates. He paid attention with utmost detail, double checking everything he wrote down.

"Sir! Sir!" The man snapped his head up, he had been busy looking over the papers and files and was surprised when his page entered the room. He had instructed the page to not disturb him unless it was something important. He had too much to worry about at the moment. The debacle with the surprise attack on the capital and Rembrant's betrayal had torn deep gouges in his faction. To the point that he had to pull double duty keeping track of records just to try and gain back the credibility the military had lost.

"What is it?" He asked, he was getting on in the years, with somewhat greying hair, grizzled features and a squarish jaw. He frowned as he looked at his page. The boy nervously fidgeted.

"I apologize for bothering you sir! I just was sent a missive, to relay to you that someone was applying to be an officer."

"That all? Why should I be notified?"

"Well sir the applicant is only eleven years of age."

The grizzled man laughed, "That's younger than you Joshua, tell them to refund his payment and get rid of him."

"That's just it, sir, they wanted you to see it before they do so."

"Alright fine… let me see it." The old man grumbled as he took the document, "Okay, elven years, uhuh, hmmm…" He looked at Joshua, "You know whose name is on it right?"

"Yes…"

"Isn't he a mage?"

"I heard he lost his magic sir; in fact, he should have recovering in the hospital just until recently."

"What? So, the queen wants to kill him? There are easier ways than joining the army."

"He requested it himself sir…"

"Oh…" The man grew suspicious, "Do the mages know?"

"I don't believe so, none have made moves to apprehend or question him, but we wouldn't know."

"Well, he's a hero, and a martyr. My faction took a severe hit when Rembrant was outed as a blasted traitor." His blood still boiled at the memory, he had trusted Rembrant with his life, thinking of him as one of the few mages he could trust, a fellow soldier once himself. To say being wrong disappointed him was an understatement. While he held some pity for the boy, he also knew many of his faction held open animosity to the child, as far as many were concerned, losing his magic was a just punishment for abusing it. He on the other hand, once privy to the full story felt somewhat bad for the boy. The children he avenged, a survivor who had come forward reminded him of his granddaughter. He'd need to speak with the boy himself. "Well… we'll have to see what happens…" He looked at Joshua, "Alright then, lead me to him."

The two of them walked out, and Donovan couldn't help but scratch his beard in wonder.

Bertram was one of his stronger returning knights errant. And while he was suffering from a hangover, he shouldn't have been on the ground as the boy said to have just come out of the hospital stood over him, cane to the older man's neck.

Faris's words chilled him. "If this were a sword, you'd be dead three times over, because you foolishly underestimated me." Faris lightly pocked the man's biceps. "Pressure points are funny." He looks up at the man with the salt and pepper beard. "So… you are…"

"Lord Donovan, but I believe you can call me headmaster Donovan." He sighed, smiling wryly. "Now, if you would be so kind, get of one of my best men."

"No problem." Faris got off Bertram, poking him quickly on both of his biceps, just above his left armpit, and the space just below his collar bone but above his first ribs. Bertram got up quickly, Face flushed with anger.

"Bertram." Donovan called, "Stand down." With a conflicted look Bertram looked down. "Fine sir…" He growled.

Donovan looked down at Faris. "Alright, just a few tests then."


	6. Chapter 6

Donovan glared at Faris; the boy had been in a salute for the past hour. The sun slowly setting. The boy hardly blinked as flies swarmed his face and exposed body. The soldiers on the field had all stopped as well, they looked at Faris with a look of awe, fear, and envy.

Faris stood, bare chested, and at attention. His bright red hair wafted slowly in the wind, his red eyes piercing and intelligent, and his skin as pale as a corpse. He looked like a tiny shade, but that wasn't the reason the soldiers and Donovan looked at him, rather it was because of two things.

The first was easily apparent. Faris was covered in scars from the neck down, horrid, gruesome things, things to the point that Rembrant's other crimes seemed to pale in comparison to what he did to the boy, scars within scars were on his body, overlapping all of it was a massive Lichtenburg figure on his back, as if lighting had decided to make it's territory on his body, scars like branching lightning arching from his left trapezoid to below his right buttock, with large bruise like dots signifying the joints of his spine. This would be intimidating enough, if not for Faris's work ethic. Despite his body creaking, and a finger snapping the wrong way, Faris completed every task required for a basic soldier, including dragging a fallen comrade up a hill. Faris did not utter a single word or sound of protest, the only thing leaving his mouth was his breathing and his grunts of exertion. When it came to see how well Faris could handle being tortured, the counter intelligence specialist had taken one look at Faris and his scars, and had jokingly asked if they needed to even test him.

"At ease soldier." Donovan sighed, he normally made sure to mentally and physically exhaust the soldiers in order for them to break down within the first 30 minutes of the salute, he saw in Faris's eyes that he wouldn't waiver, and to save time, allowed him to finally rest. The relief on Faris's face was apparent, to the point that Donovan though he had imagined the impassive young man from before. "Where did you get that discipline?"

"I had a good teacher." Faris stretched. "So… what's the pay? What is my role?"

"Woah!" Donovan held his hand, "I'm not making you an officer. You completed the basic training for physical strength, you'll probably finish the academic portions with flying colors as well but even before that, you aren't old enough to be an officer, there are only two ways I can make an exception."

"What's the fastest way with most pay." Faris asked.

"What's with you and money, do you have a family to feed or something?"

"Several." Faris said flatly, "This is a win-win situation, I get money and connections, the anti-mage faction takes in the one a traitor harmed, someone who the mages simply couldn't keep due to school rules."

"And what do you want exactly, how much money?" Donovan asked.

"500 gold."

"Insane, that sounds like you're more likely to win out."

"Well, I could always reveal this." Faris looked down at himself. "No one's seen the extent of my damage, if they do…"

"Rrrgh… Fine, I'll pay you a full minor Knight's Salary, 15 gold a week, we'll provide you a horse when you request it, and a deposit of 100 gold now, it will take a while, but you'll reach your monetary goal in less than half a year, is that good enough?"

Faris smirked, "And how hard was that?"

Donovan sighed, "Are you this insufferable?"

Faris smiled wider, "I apologize, but literally everyone in a position of authority has done something to hurt me, or someone I care about, I'm not going to play nice just because you haven't yet. Just as I have to earn your respect, you'll have to earn mine. Besides, you put me through the tests and I signed a contract for recruitment. I'm going to be your goddamn best student, so I'll be compensated as your goddamn best student."

Donovan shook his head, smiling wryly. "You remind me of old man Gurant."

"Haha, what a small world."

"Fine then, let's go meet your squad of fellow Knight Apprentices."

"Knight Apprentices? You mean squires." Faris asked.

"No, Squires would mean that they have the job of armoring a senior knight, they have no such duty, and rather are knights all on their own."

"So… a middle position? Does this come from the fact that we have Apprentices, Mage Students, and then Full-Fledged Mages?" Faris asked as they made their way to the end of the battle field.

"You ask too many questions…"

Three teen boys and one teen girl stood at the edge of the battle field. The oldest, a blonde, handsome youth with close-cropped hair rested by leaning on his practice sword. "So… I wonder how this new recruit will match up against us?"

"He'll probably be a better tactician than you Johnathan, that's for certain." The girl laughed, she flicked her almost as blond hair back and looked at him with her bright blue eyes.

"Ha-Ha." John glowered at the girl, "Tell me Cynthia, does that mean he'll be a better wrestler than you?"

"You know I won't stoop to your level and dirty myself, what use is wrestling when a quick knife to the chest ends the fight just the same."

"You lack imagination Cynthia." John laughed. He turned to the tallest member, "What about you Vern, do you imagine this new kid beating you with the bow?"

Vern, a tall boy with dusty brown hair and eyes as black a coal looked at John with a confused expression before smirking and shaking his head. "He might be good." He shook his head, "But… I don't know."

"Yeesh, first words out of you all day." John muttered, laughing.

Cynthia turned to the youngest and shortest of them, a slight boy with black hair. "What about you Manny? 'Master Tactician', what do you think this new recruit will bring to the group?"

The 'Master Tactician' Manny put his hand to the chin. "Maybe he'll be a compliment to our different abilities. John's our best melee fighter, Cynthia's unparalleled with the sword, spear, and quarter-staff, Vern is the best archer I've ever seen, and will, I'm somewhat okay with strategy."

"Boastful as ever." John quipped before being shushed by Cynthia.

"Every fifth member eventually either quit or was removed from our group, because team cohesion…"

"The geezers couldn't handle taking orders from a bunch of kids." John muttered, "Or the young ones lacked the discipline or skill to keep up, we can complete tasks and finish investigations with just the four of us though."

"Yeah, but we would have been in big trouble if that squad hadn't seen Vern's distress arrow." Manny added, "We're missing a final piece of our squad, which, will be especially bad come the Great Games. Given your track record, we'll lose to the daughter of the Wandering Blade's leader."

Cynthia shook her head, "He's abdicated, his eldest daughter is the leader now, so Nya is actually the Wandering Blade leader's little sister."

John sighed, "does that make a difference?"

"It makes it less embarrassing that she kicked your but three ways to Sunday." Cynthia quipped.

Before they could squabble some more two figures came to their view.

"It looks like Headmaster, and… our fifth member." Vern said.

"He looks shorter than you Manny." John joked.

"So that's a third boy younger than you but more competent in this squad John." Cynthia laughed.

"Big words from the cradle-robber **OW!**" John cursed as Cynthia smacked the back of his head.

Faris was in earshot of that last statement and barely hid his smile as the recruits got into a smart Salute before the headmaster.

"At ease soldiers." He smiled, "How was your reprieve?"

"It left us ready for more missions sir!" John shouted.

"Good attitude, I have a new recruit, and I'll call for your discretion."

"Sir! I'll keep John on his best behavior sir!" Cynthia quipped. This elicited stifled giggling.

"Good, but this is serious." Donovan turned to Faris, who stepped forward. "This, though I'm sure you recognize him from all the images."

Cynthia was the first to answer. "This is… Faris Ser?"

"Yes. It is." Donovan smiled, "but that's not important, rather, what's important is that while within our ranks, he'll be referred to as Damien until we reveal it to the city."

"Why?" John asked.

"I believe young Manny might know the answer."

"Well… its not been known that Faris has recovered, and… he's perceived as an enemy of the anti-mage faction, he'll face hardship in our ranks if his identity was truly known, but he'll also become a politically advantageous tool, as we as a faction would gain some of the public sentiment we lost. But… isn't he a mage, unless…" he looked at Faris's red hair and eyes, "Something went wrong during the rescue, or they were too late, and he lost his magic as a byproduct."

"Astute observation." Donovan said. "That's why I want your discretion, it was Faris's choice to allow you to know his real name and appearance at the moment, but he'll be using black hair dye to remove suspicion, in time his skin may also return to its normal shade as well, but only time will tell."

Faris stood forward, "I look forward to be working with you, Headmaster Donovan has told me you're one of the most talented young knights he's ever trained, I'm here to let you know I'm going to be the best." The knight apprentices bristled at his words, but they traded his fierce grin with equally fierce smiles. Donovan nodded approvingly.

_They'll push each other, I look forward to their work._ "Alright, make yourself acquainted, understand your skills, and prepare for our first mission."

As he left the arena John turned to Faris. "So… I've seen your fights, you're skilled with a sword and with your fist, and you can apparently fire a bow and arrow with your legs as well."

"Right now, I'm still injured, I'm not in top form." Faris said. "So, I'm more dangerous at the moment."

"And why is that?"

Faris laughed, "Because I can't afford to go easy. As it is, I'll lack the physical strength to bypass even leather armor, so I won't be training just yet."

"Really?" Cynthia said, "I would have wanted to see your skills in person Faris, unless you relied on magic to pull them off."

"Only some of them." He said.

In another part of the city, a band of dwarves stared daggers at a group of Urgals, both sides had their hands on their weapons.

"So... what are you horned fellas doing over at this hotel?"

"I would ask you the same, beardy." Zhodar replied with some coolness in his voice. "I thought you dwarves preferred digging in your little caves."

"Well, sometimes we like to stretch our legs out in the sun, I'm surprised you're here, this place serves cooked meat, don't your kind eat it raw?"

"Nope, raw meat's hard to pick off our teeth with precious stones, but you'd know that, wouldn't you? I can smell your breath from here."

Before their words became more hostile a dwarf with a deep red beard stood between them.

"Hey now… calm yourselves. I know you're feeling antsy because you couldn't partake in the battle, but the Great Games are in two weeks, concentrate on that."

Gork stood forward, "Thank you honored rider, my comrades will be doing just that."

"Feh… a fight wouldn't have been worth my time anyways."

"True, crushing you in front of a crowd would be more entertaining." Zhodar finished, the two groups separated, but Vulcan couldn't help but overhear the dwarves.

"And he calls himself one of ours? He's taking those horned bastards' sides. He's menotho (beardless) and has no loyalty. That dragon has bewitched him."

Vulcan sighed.

_The most important tasks are often the least glamourous or interesting. And they're often the least appealing._

_I know Volund._ Vulcan began, _but it doesn't make it any more bearable._ He would have liked nothing more than to have downed some ale or beer with his kinsman, but he was stuck quelling any disputes between the representatives of the Dûrgrimst Vrenshrrgn, or War Wolf Clan, and the representatives of the Catch-Tooth Urgal tribe. They would normally be in different buildings, but the building that would house the dwarves had been destroyed by the attack. The Catch-Tooth tribe had the least number of representatives, and their member Gork, who spoke the best of the human tongue was the one willing to be a mediator. The problem lay with the dwarves, there was no love lost between Urgals and Dwarves, they were both so similar and so different in their race's respective cultures that it was little wonder that they were at each other's throats.

It was why Vulcan had stepped in, as a fellow Dwarf he was the mediator, and whilst he wasn't a member of the War Wolves, his sister married into the clan, making him at the very least one of their kin tangentially. But they were hard to deal with, so much so that it made it painfully obvious that Vulcan had changed after becoming a rider, looking past the sacredness of tradition for tradition's sake and looking to the bigger picture when it was called for. The Urgals were polite, but still regarded him coldly, the only one holding a conversation and at least being friendly on a surface level was Gork, but Gork seemed kind to a fault, he had even asked Vulcan to learn a few words in the dwarven tongue, and could now issue a proper dwarven greeting. Something that got on the nerves of some of the Vrenshrrgn members.

_Riders and dragons exist to bind the races together and forge a good, peaceful future. The land will face growing pains._

_I just wish we could do this when there wasn't war, I should be out in the frontlines._

_You're the only disciple of Eragon who's mastered the human tongue, Ancient Language, and Urgal tongue alongside your own to any adequate degree, and you are patient. Rhuk would debate the dwarves. Miifa would yell at both sides. Henri would cower behind Miifa, and Kiera would probably wax poetics about the nature of mortals and conflict, then yell at both sides._ He could hear Volund rumble a coughing chuckle. _As it is you truly are the best rider for the job._

Vulcan sighed. "I need a break."

_Go then, I can keep an eye on them, as long as you don't go further than two blocks you can still hear my mind, we've trained at least that much. Besides, the blacksmith district is rather close._

_You know me well._ Even if their individual skill was less than that of the dwarves, human blacksmiths put out decent work for their short lives. And it was humans who devised the steam engine. Before anything else, Vulcan was a dwarf, and he still enjoyed fine craftsmanship and earnest labor. He walked towards the blacksmith's district, the sound of hammers and fire feeling at home for a member of the Dûrgrimst Ingeitum. He smiled as he made his way to the largest forge, a few humans he spoke to stated that one of the city's best and oldest blacksmiths spent his days forging personal pieces and custom tools and weapons that struck his fancy, and that a contraption he had made had been instrumental in holding back a group of invaders and even in injuring a shade. He approached the largest looking building, hearing the sound of a competent smith.

"Confident, well timed swings, I like the sound of the metal, it's been worked on well, cleared of almost all impurities, that's either a good ore or a good smith, but likely both." As he walked inside, he saw two figures. The taller one wore a thick smock that blocked most of the front of his body a cap covered his hair, and he even wore a mask that covered most of his face.

The second wore a similar smock, but instead of a mask, he wore what seemed to be a cloth mask and thick tinted spectacles with a resin like mold, they attached snuggly to his face and was tied with a knotted cord.

"Smart." Vulcan was impressed, he had heard from his clan members that they were making these items, called resin-flame-protectors, tentatively, the only issue was making sure the resin wouldn't melt under the high heat. They hadn't yet developed a flexible enough formula with a high melting point. He waited, watching as they he created a nearly perfect square of iron. As they left it to cool, the blacksmith took out a thinner sheet of iron, it was rolled into a thin tube. The thicker strip of iron was finally heated again, a bit at a time, with the heated bits wrapping around the thinner barrel. This was done with high heat and a special tong, one beak being short and flat, the other being rounded and long. The taller human moved with expert dexterity, wrapping the long metal with expertise, making sure no gap was left over, whilst the smaller human made sure the flames were as hot as possible, and that the thicker iron was heated in a steady way. Eventually, it formed a 3-foot-long, thin barrel. After some polishing, whilst it was still slightly warm a boring bit was used, slightly thicker than the inside area of the barrel it drilled in to the end, then was drilled out. Eventually, a drill was used to create a small opening on the opposite end of the open end of the barrel. The two looked at each other, then slapped their hands together. That's when the shorter one noticed Vulcan. The older one turned, removing his mask.

"Oh? A dwarf? Nice to see your kind around here, what brings you to my humble shop?"

Vulcan shook his head, "I wanted to see the person hailed as the human's best blacksmith, and…" he looked around, "I'm impressed."

"I take your compliment as the highest of honors. Judging from your ring, I see you are a member of the metal working clan, for a member of your clan to say that, honors me." He bows deeply.

"I must say, I'm equally impressed with your apprentice. He moves with dexterity and sureness."

The apprentice removed his mask and goggles, revealing red eyes, red hair, and a slowly tanning face. _"Thank you for your kind words."_ Faris replied in dwarven.

Vulcan widened his eyes, and inclined his head. "You are one with many talents. An exemplary mage, a skilled duelist, of wit sharp enough to impress a dragon, of dexterity required to earn the apprenticeship of the best human blacksmith, and it seems fluency in the tongues of the races of Alagaesia should be added to your repertoire."

Faris smiled, "I simply had a good teacher."

"Hmm… It's a pity I won't see you in the Great Games, I would have enjoyed seeing your prowess live."

Faris laughed, "Fate acts in strange ways. Though, you don't have to speak so formally, I really have nothing but gratitude to you and Volund for keeping me alive. I don't hold ill will to you, or to anyone who tried to help me. And…" He stared at his hands, "I can't hold on to the pain of losing my magic, at least, I can't let it dictate my life."

Vulcan stroked his beard, "Take care that you do not crack under pressure you put yourself under, the same heat and pressure that forms diamonds can cause an eruption that can take life and destroy the landscape."

_Is that a warning that I may destroy myself, or destroy others?_ Faris thought, regardless, he made a light bow. "I'll take your words in consideration."

Vulcan smirked, "Consideration eh…"

"Faaariiiis!" They turned to see a group of children, the first-year Pearl Initiates, though, at this moment the first year Silver Initiates, burst into the forge.

The first was Venka, who turned to smirk at the rest who raced inside, out of breath. Nya was next, followed by Venka who stared daggers at Seya, then Morgan then Katya, Alanna and Dusan showed up at the end, though they were the least winded and had likely just been taking a leisurely jog.

"Hey! You haven't forgotten about ou-" They looked at Vulcan, and quickly bowed deeply.

"Lord Vulcan, we beg your pardon for the unsightly arrival."

Vulcan laughed, "I have no issue with your arrival, in fact I was marveling at your friend, but I guess I should spread that to you. Despite your punishment, you still performed admirably I heard, and I look forward to seeing you all enter adult hood."

They smiled graciously at his compliments, all except Seya who hounded Faris. "Hey, darling, I won the bet, you better reward me…"

"I agreed to no such bet." Faris muttered, pushing her away."

"A cold Faris is still lovely!"

"Oh, come off it!" Venka snapped. The tension eased as the children became children again, with Morgan and Nya asking Vulcan questions about being a rider, and about Volund, and about Eragon and the other riders.

"I should put a damn lock on, shouldn't I?" Gurant muttered as he threw his hands up. Turning to Faris he announced. "Boy! I'm going to check on the processed gun powder, tomorrow we'll test the blast yields of each formula." Faris nodded, bowing to Gurant. "Thank you for your guidance today master, I'll see you tonight." Gurant merely waived his hands.

Faris put down his smock and washed his hands in a side basin. Turning to Vulcan he smiled apologetically. "I apologize Lord Vulcan, my friends made me promise I'd spend some time with them tonight and tomorrow, as it's the weekend. I can't let them down."

Vulcan laughed, "Nono, I need to get back to keeping my kinsmen and the Urgals from getting at each other's throats before the Games even start."

"Oh?" Faris inquired, "Which clans?"

"The Catch-Tooth Urgal Tribe and the War Wolves."

"The Dûrgrimst Vrenshrrgn?" Faris asked, "I'd think they'd be the least likely to want to sleep under the same roof, why are they stuck together?"

"The attack of the city destroyed their usual lodgings, and the dwarves were already stuffed to the brim elsewhere. It was the only location close to other dwarf lodgings, and the Catch-Tooth tribe was gracious enough to allow them to share the space, as they have the least representatives."

Faris shook his head, "It's probably Gork, he's kind to a fault."

"You know their clan?"

"I lived amongst them for 3 years." Faris said.

"You… really are peculiar." Vulcan widened his eyes, "Actually… could you help me then? Whilst I'm doing my best to mediate between the two. I'm having trouble getting the War Wolves to keep from being disrespectful. And sometimes even I forget the Urgals' mannerisms and accidentally get on their nerves. Since they know you, and you seem to be friends with Gork, perhaps you can help me. Not today of course, you promised to spend time with your friends, but perhaps during the next week. I can compensate for your time."

Faris imagined his free time being ripped away even as he nodded, "I'll do my best to help where I can."

Vulcan laughed, "Thank you, I hope you aren't being spread too thin."

After bidding Vulcan a goodbye; Faris locked up the forge and joined his friends.

Just as he locked up, Bartholomew slowly jogged into view. "Oh come on!"

Morgan laughed, "That's why you should join us in strength and endurance training Bartholomew."

"Hey!" Nya slung an arm around Faris, "You didn't tell us you knew the Urgal tongue, and Dwarvish!"

"I mean, there wasn't a time, or place, to talk about it really."

"Did you learn your martial arts from the Urgals?" Nya's eyes flashed as she imagined one of the muscled brutes breaking a log with their fist."

"Not at all." Faris laughed. "But I did learn a lot about fight and throwing my weight correctly through the battlefield."

"That's not important!" Seya whined, "Darliiiing!" She moaned, "I won the bet!"

"I don't remember any bet." Faris said, looking at her with a dull look in his red eyes."

"Ooh! A cold look is good too!"

"You already said that." Faris pushed her off him and Venka hopped in his place.

"Not you too…" He moaned in exhaustion.

"Hey! You like me though." Faris could only blush at that bold declaration.

The others turned to Faris, then to Venka, then to Seya. Seya shrugged, "The ring has a guardian but you can still slip past."

Faris burst out laughing.

"What is this ring?" Dusan asked his sister.

Alanna, who was slightly wiser to the world than Dusan was, smirked, ready to share he worldly wisdom. "They which to both challenge Faris to a one-on-one duel."

Nya shook her head, then thought about it, "It's… close enough?"

They continued talking and speaking, passing by a food cart and getting meat on a stick.

"This isn't bad." Bartholomew said, "But it's not good."

"Yeah…" Nya looked at Faris, "It lacks a certain charm."

"Yup, a little hard work and effort that really brings out the flavor." Morgan continued.

"With just the hint of love and hard work from a very handsome young man." Seya added.

"A handsome young man that very much loves his friends, especially his really strong, really pretty red-haired friend." Venka finished.

Alanna, smiling, looked to Faris, "Hey Faris can you roast some vegetables, I think they're waiting for some other friend to make them something."

Faris almost laughed but realized Dusan was probably serious. "Ouch man… I'm not that ugly."

"Huh?" Alanna exclaimed, "I don't think that at all! You're a very comely young human."

An awkward silence filled the room as Morgan's elbow dug into Faris's rib. Panicking Faris turned to Alanna. "But Morgan! He's more handsome than I am right?!"

Alanna looked confused, "I believe he's a comely young human male as well." The ribbing from Morgan stopped, but Faris nearly fell as Nya accidentally 'bumped' into him. If you considered a WWE body-slam a bump.

"Be careful, the ground is slippery." Nya innocently remarked.

"Dully noted, I'll watch my feet, and mouth." Faris muttered.

Katya laughed grabbing Dusan by the hand, "Let's beat them to the room so we can determine what Faris makes first."

"NO!" Morgan roared, sprinting forward with uncharacteristic speed. The kids looked at that, then each other, then laughed.

As they continued on, they passed by 4 slightly older teens. John was the first to call out. "Oh? It's the mages, well how're you?"

Nya smirked, "How's your arse, it must be sore seeing how many times I've kicked it and its been on the floor."

Cynthia laughed haughtily, "Yes, because using magic to bolster your physical strength is definitely fair."

"Come on guys, let's not fight." Manny said.

"Oh? If it isn't little Manny, how's home?" Katya asked.

"Oh… Katya! Well… it's okay." Manny looked down.

Vern glared at her.

"What?" Katya began, "Gonna say something?"

"Maybe how we beat you in archery and will beat you again this year."

"Hey guys… why're you being so, rude?" Faris asked.

"Faris?! Don't you know, they're part of the anti-magic faction, they hate mages, they're the ones that hurt you."

"Rembrant's the one who betrayed the city." John bristled.

"You didn't stop him from capturing Faris."

"You can't blame them for their leader's decisions." Faris interjected.

"Ugh… of all people." Nya looked at Faris quizzically, "What? Are they your friends?!"

"Ha! As if!" John laughed, "In fact I'm surprised you didn't abandon him, he's magicless, like we are."

"Unlike you, Faris isn't just his magic, he's got substance." Seya retorted; the groups separated.

Faris swallowed uncomfortably. "You guys… share, history?"

"We hate them, they're the anti-mage faction's 'golden kids', and are insufferable."

Morgan sighed, "In terms of individual skill, Nya's a better fighter than any of them. But during a mock combat training in the beginning of the year, they were equipped with mage slayer gear and we had our crystals and any magical tools. We weren't exactly all friends, but we did all know each other. Those for beat us in the group fight."

Seya smirked, "Well, it was only Morgan, Nya, and Katya vs them, if I was there it would be a different story."

"It's going to be a different story now; we've been trained by Faris." Nya ruffled his red hair. "And he's still the best fighter around."

Faris chuckled along with their laughter, but felt his hear catch. Venka reached out to his mind tentatively, and he allowed her in.

_No love lost between them, they're getting antsy because of the great games, you're… you're on the other side. What will you do?_

Faris pondered. _Well, I probably won't fight, though, it will be awkward meeting them on our next training._

_You know them?_

_Yeah... they're my squad…_


	7. Chapter 7

"Play with us Mr. Angel! Play with us!" Nina shouted twice, rousing Faris from his nap. He looked Nina and Dustin, who were hopping up and down rapidly.

"Huh? Kids? What do you want?" _Kids?_ He thought, _You're only 4 years older than them physically._

"Come play with us! We need at least 1 more person!" Dustin pulled on Faris's arm.

"Okay… okay!" Faris rolled off the cushion he napped on. Rubbing his hair, he yawned. "Where are you parents?"

"They went shopping! It's almost Nina's Birthday!" Dustin said. Nina shot them both a gleaming smile.

"Uh… how many days?" Faris asked.

"Three!" Nina shouted.

_Crap._ Faris smiled, "Wow! You're going to be a big girl!"

_Forgot?_ Faris turned to the sound, in the corner of the room, roosting by the windowsill, was Ventus. While Faris had grown weaker, Ventus had become stronger, the energy he seemed to absorb was proportional to the energy of the creature he was near. The several dozen shades and enhanced children increased his gem's capacity by a large amount. It was to the point Faris jokingly contemplated teaching Ventus magic.

_More like I didn't know, I may have a perfect memory, but even I can't recall things I haven't learned._ Faris got up, stretching. "Okay, so, what do you want to play?"

"I want to play Shade Slayer!"

Faris put his hand to his face. "Course you do." He put up a strained smile. "And I guess the other kids want to play that too."

"Yeah! Cause you're really good at playing the shade! You use really big words and you're so much faster and stronger! It's super fun!"

Faris felt both flattered and hurt as they continued. _They have no filter._

_Hatchlings, subtlety, none._

Faris got up, yawning once again. "Alright, let's go play."

Joining the kids outside, Faris humored the children, who were on an impromptu break while the city was finishing its repairs and preparing for the games in a few days.

"Okay men!" Dustin yelled, holding a crafted wooden sword.

"And girls!" Nina yelled, raising her wooden sword. Followed by murmured assents from the other girls.

Dustin rolls his eyes. "And girls!" Everyone cheered and waived their assorted fake weapons. "It's time! We must defeat the shade and save the queen!"

Faris groaned internally as he turned to the "queen".

_Hate this…_ Ventus was dressed in a pink dress one of the girls claimed had once been the baby clothes belonging to a noble her mom was working for.

The kids had at first been scared of Ventus, owls were seen as ill omens, and if not for Faris's positive image amongst the children and adults of the slums, there would have been a larger fuss about him flying overhead and roosting wherever he liked. The people of the slums though quickly realized they couldn't bully Faris into leaving or abandoning Ventus, and the children grew comfortable around Ventus's normally passive nature, as he often let them reach out and pet him.

_Sorry bud, you'll have to play along until they get tired._ Faris was dressed in a ridiculous red cloak and he had a goofy smirk on his face as he roared and hissed at the children, uttering clichés like: "Heroes! You dare fight me?! You can't stop me!" They played for 30 minutes, him zipping around and tickling the kids, and they trying their hardest to brain him, eventually, exhausted, Faris let a stick hit him on the shoulder, and he leaped back, dramatically screaming and shouting his defeat before collapsing dramatically. The kids cheered, running up to and getting to Ventus, who finally had enough, shaking off the clothing and fluttering off.

Afterwards the kids returned to their various individual and group games. Faris sighed as he looked at Dustin and Nina, who were drawing on the floor with charcoal tipped sticks of wood. Faris shook his head. He'd have to wait for their parents to arrive before he could head over to the building Vulcan was trying to keep the peace in. Today was the first day he'd be helping, but no one else was at the home, and it would be too dangerous to leave the children, Nina especially, out alone.

"Big bro!" Faris's head snapped up, he saw a kid he didn't recognize running towards him, scared and red in the face. Faris cocked an eyebrow but got up. "Big bro! Help! Minnie's in trouble!"

"Who?" Faris asked.

"Minnie! She's my kitty cat!" The boy was on the verge of crying. "She got caught in a trap! If they come, she'll get killed!"

Faris closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose even as he motioned for the kid to lead the way.

If kitty cat meant giant beast, the child was accurate, Minnie was a large cat, nearly half Faris's size, sporting the coloration of a snow leopard. She hissed viciously at him, and as he inspected her predicament, he realized what was going on. Minnie was in a simple latch trap, something he'd have imagined would be easy for a cat her size to break out of, but she was also caught in a beartrap like piece with an especially complicated lock. Faris walked closer and Minnie glared at him with deep red eyes, glowering, hissing and caterwauling to the point that Faris had to cover his ears.

_"__Look…"_ He said calmly in the ancient language, _"I'm not here to hurt you…"_ The cat's tail whipped back and forth rapidly, it's sharp teeth barely hidden behind its almost snarl and its claws unfurled at full size. He smirked, "It looks like you were caught in a simply trap." The cat hissed again as he opened the latch. As he reached inside its scratched him on the arm, tearing his long-sleeved shirt and creating a deep cut. "OW!" Faris jerked his hand back and the caterwauling continued. "Look!" Faris screamed over the cat's wailing. "I'm not your enemy goddammit!" He reached into his pocket, taking out a twisted piece of wire. Removing his shirt, he wrapped it tightly around his arm. Holding the wire in the other hand Faris rushed towards the cage, cloth covered hand jammed in front of the cat's mouth. He winced as the cat bit down, it's teeth couldn't pierce the leather and cloth, but the pressure threatened to snap his bones if he didn't finish quickly. Eventually, after a few fidgets and jerks of the metal pin and wire he was able to unlock the latch. The cat opened its jaw in surprise and relief as the vice's pressure was removed. It looked at Faris, blinking a few times before pushing past him and running off. Faris put back on the shirt, ignoring the blood stains. _Better that than them freaking out because of my scars._

Faris looked at the boy. "Was… was Minnie your kitty cat?" But he didn't see the boy anywhere.

"Uh…" Faris sighed, he could still see the other kids playing, and assumed that the unfamiliar boy had joined them.

After cleaning up and bandaging his arm Faris waited for Martha and Yura, who luckily arrived a few minutes later. He bid them a quick goodbye and rushed to the location Vulcan told him about.

And not a second too soon as the sound of arguments was heard. Faris winced as he heard some of the worst of Urgal and Dwarven slurs being hurled back and forth and Vulcan screaming in both languages for the people to calm down. Soon he heard Volund roar, which caused the groups to quiet. He burst in just as that happened, and looked to the chaos of the room. In a corner of the room he could see a beaten up, unconscious Kull warrior, horn cracked and the clan sigil of the Dûrgrimst Vrenshrrgn branded on his forehead.

"Oh fuck…" Faris swore as he approached Vulcan, speaking rapidly in the ancient language he asked. _"Vulcan-Elda, I apologize, I should have been here earlier but I was tarried, what happened?!"_

Vulcan gave Faris a pained smile. "The Catch-Tooth Tribe were completing their early morning training, one of their members went into the building, and this was discovered by me…" He didn't continue, but he didn't need to. The Urgal was in terrible shape, if Vulcan hadn't arrived, he'd have been a corpse. Even after healing him he was still somewhat bruised and still unconscious. "He's stable, but he'll live."

Faris walked towards the Kull, then widened his eyes. "Zhodar!" He rushed towards the Kull and second Kull by his side. The second Kull looked at Faris with wide eyes.

"Ushnek? What are you doing here?"

Faris shook his head, "I promised that I would help ease tensions between Dwarves and Urgals in this building, but it seemed I was too late."

"Too late?!" a Stout Dwarf with fiery red hair roared. "How dare you! You think we did this?! We wouldn't dirty our hands like this! As much as we hate these savages, they extended the allowance for us to stay in this building, thus we are both theirs and this kingdom's guest, and until the games, our men are under strict orders!"

Faris turned to Vulcan. "Did they swear in the ancient language that they didn't attack Zhodar?"

Before Vulcan could answer the dwarf muttered a few Dwarven oaths. "You doubt us?!"

Faris stood up, "What is your name esteemed dwarf?"

The dwarf switched to his native tongue, turning to Vulcan. _"You'll allow a human brat to insult me by asking these questions Vulcan?! Are you truly no longer a knurlan?"_

Faris replied in turn, _"No, he invited me because I was assisted by the Catch-Tooth tribe as a child, I owe them a life debt, and both Zhodar and Gork are the closest thing to brood brothers to me when with their tribe. Your tribe's sigil has been found branded on his forehead, regardless of the exact circumstances, you or one of your own either branded him, or allowed a likeness of your clan sigil to be created then used for branding. Regardless of your group's innocence or guilt, we must check."_

The dwarf looked like he would utter some more retorts, but quieted down. "If you believe so… boy, but tread lightly, we of the War-wolves do not take insults to our honor."

Vulcan coached the men on the specific phrases in the ancient language, making sure they understood what it meant. They had to state they did not attack Zhodar, that they did not brand Zhodar, and that they did not misplace their sigil at any time or hand it to someone else to look at. They had all been able to answer the questions except for one dwarf, who could not answer the third question.

"Braxen?!" The red bearded dwarf said, flabbergasted, "Braxen! What did you do with your sigil!"

The younger dwarf, who's beard was only long enough to have one short braid trembled slightly as he muttered about misplacing his sigil a few days ago.

Faris looked at him. "Say it in the ancient language, say that you misplaced it a few days ago in the ancient language right now, if you're telling the truth." Braxen didn't answer.

Faris turned to the red-bearded dwarf. "Braxen?! How could you do this to me! To your clan! The War Wolves are an honorable tribe! We fight together yes! And we hunt yes! But we fight others fairly, how dare you!"

Zhodar at this point had begun to rouse, and Vulcan healed the rest of his injury.

Faris raised a hand. "All we know, or, all he let us know through his silence is that he didn't have his Sigil with him for a period of time. Given his unwillingness to talk about it, it's likely related to Zhodar's injury. The dwarf in question prostrated himself before the red-bearded dwarf, who had a pained look on his face as he nodded to two other dwarves who walked towards the young dwarf and jostled him up.

"You shame our tribe Braxen, you are no longer allowed to enter the games, and you will be in room arrest, these two shall guard you, when we return the Grimstborith shall have words for you, and a suitable punishment will be met out!" The young dwarf didn't answer as he was taken away. The red bearded dwarf turned to the Kull leader, walking up to him and scowling, he spoke. "We dishonored you, who extended half this place to us, and one of mine kin and blood relatives hurt your warrior and branded him, inviting your anger and dishonoring my men. I…" He was interrupted by the Kull, who spoke.

"We here your words dwarf, as long as you keep him in this custody, all is forgiven." The kull smiled and shook the stunned dwarf's hand.

"B-but…" The red-bearded dwarf was flabbergasted.

"You admitted the wrong doing, and using the tongue of truth. None of you, not even the traitor, harmed Zhodar physically, it was done by another, a cunning trick to turn us against each other no doubt. I can forgive, if you can forgive me calling all your tribe cowardly."

They shook hands.

Vulcan looked somewhat shocked, Faris whispered to him, "Urgals find the chance to experience combat to be the greatest of gifts. Zhodar will be find, and you can get rid of the scar, right?"

"Right, but…"

"Their sense of what is honorable is different from your sense. They often tortured their prisoners before the end of the war, so the branding wasn't the issue. It was the fact that the dwarves basically defiled Otragkith, or Family-Circle, they invited the dwarves into the building, and the dwarves are now guests, treated like family. The urgals freely insult one another and get into arguments, sometimes physical altercations."

"So… it was miscommunication?"

"Not fully, there was real vitriol in what the dwarves said, and even in what some Urgals said. There is obvious tension between the races that doesn't just go away, but the dwarves were fast to allowing something to be checked, and in fixing a wrong. To them, banning someone from competing is actually to them one of the harshest punishments that dwarf could have met out. They believe then that he is sincere. Though his sincerity comes from the oath signifying that he would report Braxen's wrong doings." Faris almost chuckled, speaking louder, he turned to the two groups. "Alright, since we have resolved part of the issue, perhaps a drinking party is required. The two groups cheered at that.

"Thank you, you resolved the immediate crisis, but, why a drinking party?" Vulcan asked.

Faris winked, "It will take both of these groups out of the inn, and it's on your tab, I'm exhausted but I want to check out Braxen's stuff, and I can't drink." Faris shook his head, "Also, be sure to tell the Urgals that the reason the dwarf drinks first is to check to see if the drink and food is poisoned. The urgals normally don't take such things to consideration."

"You really were a help Faris, thank you." Vulcan smiled.

_You are a smart child little one._ Volund added.

Faris smirked, "Don't thank me, you're paying their tab."

Vulcan's face fell and he turned to run after the two voracious drinking parties.

Faris walked up to the three dwarves. After a few words with the two guards, he was given permission to check Braxen's things, much to Braxen's dismay, as the young dwarf shouted exclamations of alarm and futile commands to halt Faris.

_It, it's not different from what I thought._ Faris looked into the room, it smelled of beer and polish and dirt. It looked like this dwarf's artistic hobby was sculpturing, as there were several sculptures, some of dwarves, others of feldûnost and vrenshrrgn. He looked through the dwarf's items, inspecting documents, notes, and even the dwarf's diary, but found nothing incriminating.

"At least…" He said to himself, "He was smart enough to cover his tracks, the info's probably in his head." He looked at the sculptures, and found one of a dwarven woman. She was a pretty, stout woman with a youthful face and braided hair, the sculpture was so intricately carved that he could make out flowers on her hair. He could make out a necklace with an eye with a teardrop like symbol replacing the pupil. He cocked his head; he didn't recognize the symbol.

_Faris, window, look!_ He snapped his head, looking at the window to see a flash of black and grey and a glint of silver, without thinking he dived to the side, feeling something whiz past his head. He rolled into the closet just as another something nearly stabbed him in the back of the neck. He hid in a supply closet just as the window slid open. He stood up, grabbing a coat hangar and gripping it. Dull footsteps echoed in the room, slowly approaching the closet. Faris felt his heart beating as a dull rage filled him. With a burst of adrenaline, he pushed the door open, slamming it into the face of his would-be assailant. As they flailed on the ground, he saw a second one leap towards him, as he barely dodged to the side, he swung the coat hanger. The man was wearing a cloth mask, which did little to protect his face from the metal wire. As the man roared in pain Faris grabbed the bed sheets, throwing them on the man then kicking him viciously. A sharp pain exploded from his back as the first assassin struck him in the back. If it wasn't for the pain he'd experienced before he would have collapsed or froze, but as if on reflex he gave the man, or woman after hearing her winded voice, a spinning back hand punch. Before he could follow up the second assassin tackled him.

Faris twisted his body, facing the attacker and gripping the attacker's wrist. With most of his fingers gripping the wrist Faris began using his ring finger, attempting to scratch at the man's wrist to cause him pain or discomfort. The man responded by punching him in the face once. "Ow!" Faris emoted, "Goddammit!" The man attempted to cover Faris's mouth, Faris tossed and turned his neck, causing the man to slip two fingers in his mouth, without hesitation Faris bit down.

It was the assassin's turn to scream as Faris's mouth filled with blood, jerking back his hand the assassin could only stare in shock at his two missing fingers, still bleeding. Faris spit the severed digits, punching the man in the throat. The first assassin kicked Faris in the face, nearly knocking him out, as Faris lay there dazed, the assassin prepared to stab him to death. A high-pitched ghostly screech filled the room at that moment as Ventus swooped in, scratching with his talons and buffeting with his wings. The assassin tried slashing at Ventus, but his wild, panicked swings made it nearly impossible to hit Ventus. Faris struggled to get up, but the assassin he punched was first, getting up to his feet and rubbing his neck. Faris moved himself, barely dodging a vicious stab.

"I'm going to kill you brat!" The man screamed, not letting up his attacks and keeping Faris from getting up. Faris was getting exhausted dodging and blocking from the ground. He could only be thankful that the knives hadn't been poisoned or coated with Seithr oil. He rolled towards the door, attempting to open it, only to have the first assassin run and block the door. Faris turned to Ventus, to find he had been tangled up in tossed bedsheets. In that moment a large white cat with faint black spots burst into the room from the same open window, behind it 5 normal sized cats. It tackled the assassin at Faris's back, biting and scratching the man, as the 5 cats streamed past Faris and hissed and yowled at the female assassin, you yelled in alarm. Whilst she was distracted Faris untangled Ventus. He turned to see the assassins, covered in scratches and bleeding all over as they ran out the window. The cats didn't give chase, and instead ran over to the largest cat, rubbing it, or her, all over.

Faris scratched his head. "Uh thanks… Minnie?" The cat simply looked at him, its fangs slightly jutting out as it regarded him with its deep red eyes. One of the cats, a tawny orange cat with a scar on its front left arm. walked up to him, then looked at Ventus, who extended his wings out and sent out a few chirps. "You know that cat?!"

_"__Helped each other, caught rats. They sniff and find; I scare or kill."_

"Cool." Faris sighed.

The werecat walked up to him, and cocked its head. "You... No Shade?"

"No, I'm not a shade, I think." Faris said.

"You aren't surprised I can speak?" The werecat sat on its haunches.

"Should I be? I've met a werecat before, heck, I'm friends with him."

"You had a faint smell…" The werecat scratched an ear.

"So… should I call you Minnie?"

"If you must, I only have a few names, I can be called Minnie."

"Great, nice, um… thank you for saving me Minnie."

"It was no trouble; your people are normally easy to unnerve." Minnie yawned.

"No, you saved my life, and Ventus's if he couldn't untangle himself, thank you."

The werecat purred in satisfaction at that, licking her paws. "Yes, Minnie did good."

Faris regarded the werecat for a few seconds before getting up and surveying the room. It was in shambles, the bed, walls, and carpet were covered in scratches, blood, fur, and feathers. It was at that moment that one of the guards burst into the room. He looked around at the damage then raised an alarm as he regarded Faris.

"Boy! Are you alright?! What happened?!"

"Assassins." Faris muttered, "But they ran."

"Why didn't you call for us?"

"I wish I did, but I was being attacked and was mostly focused on making it out alive."

"Hmph, if you have that much nerve you must be fine." The dwarf chuckled stroking his black beard. "Come with me, Bjorn knows a bit of magic, so he should be able to heal a scratch or two."


	8. Chapter 8

Bjorn was a thickly built dwarf, this same extremely muscular and gruff looking dwarf had a very calm, high pitched voice. Save for the fact that he looked like he could actually snap Faris in half, the boy would have chuckled slightly at the juxtaposition of voice and appearance. Bjorn muttered a few words in the ancient language, healing Faris's major wounds and giving quick a pass over on his shallower wounds.t

"You should be fine, but, goodness child, you've been through much."

"Yup." Faris replied drily. He looked over at Braxen, who was sniveling with a pale, frightened look on his face. "You should consider yourself lucky. If you were the one in the room, you'd be dead." The dwarf glared at him but didn't answer. Faris turned to the two dwarven guards, "I bet you guys wish you were drinking right now."

"Aldo here is actually is actually allergic to alcohol." Bjorn said, chuckling.

"Wait… really?" Faris asked incredulously.

The first guard who discovered Faris, Aldo, scoffed. "It happens, it makes me ill, almost like a poison. The priests tried to 'exorcise' a demon out of me, but nothing."

Bjorn smirks, "Aldo was so upset he stated he would only continue to serve the gods if they could heal him of his ailment. The priests scream that its merely a test Guntera has put to test his faith."

"Bah, if they wanted to test my faith they could look to my military service, I've been fighting and soldiering since the Varden entered Farthen Dûr."

"So, you don't drink out of moral support?" Faris turned to Bjorn, seeing him down a flask.

"Me? Oh yeah, moral support, we stick together thick and thin." Bjorn downs the flask, and takes out a second one, downing it. "Ah, wine, my favorite."

"Uh…. wine's alcohol." Faris muttered. There was no one to respond. Ventus had returned to patrolling the building, and Minnie had left of her own accord, the 5 cats following after.

Faris looked at Bjorn's flask, "That's interesting, the first flask had a different symbol compared to this one."

"Yup." Bjorn smiled with a burp, taking out another flask. "I've got one for each clan, though some are slightly outdated, like the Dûrgrimst Az Sweldn rak Anhûin clan's sigil and the Dûrgrimst Quan sigil, but we aren't on the most positive terms with either clan."

"What?" Faris asked, curiosity peaked, "What do you mean?"

"Both clans reacted vehemently when King Orik announced his decision and permission in allowing the Shade Slayer to add the Dwarves to the pact between races. Az Sweldn rak Anhûin acted as normal, but the Quan was somewhat surprising." Bjorn took another swig.

"Not too surprising." Aldo huffed, "Those religious types think Orik committed high blasphemy and mixed stone with fire. They talk of mountains exploding and fire and stone raining down and flowing like a river, fire and stone filling the air, a perversion of the natural states of elements or some such thing. Like our mountain would explode." He laughs.

Eventually Vulcan returned, towing along extremely drunk dwarves and urgals who clasped each other on the arms and soldiers and cajoling each other along.

"You aren't so bad." The red-bearded leader pats the head Kull on the shoulder. "You horned bastards can hold your beer!" He guffawed loudly.

"And you little men can drink ten times your weight!" The kull laughed. "You have an eye for good drink!"

They laughed and seemed to dance to some invisible music. Faris turned to Vulcan.

"It seems they had a good time."

"They did, and it seems I've inconvenienced you again." Vulcan replied.

"Inconvenienced?" Faris quipped, looking at his torn clothes, "That's a tame way of putting it."

After explaining what he found, a contingent of troops were tasked with providing additional protection. Vulcan couldn't be up and alert every waking moment and he would be busy still making sure the dwarves and urgals didn't fight, even if this afternoon at a bar created camaraderie between the groups.

Upon that knowledge Faris bid Vulcan a goodbye.

"Alright kid, let's see what you can do." John held his quarter staff arm's length away from himself, he eyed Faris dubiously, watching as the boy slowly twirled a staff two heads taller than himself.

Faris kept his eyes closed, swinging his staff lightly back and forth. "So… I just need to hit you once before you can hit me." He said, opening his eyes.

"Yup, though don't waste your breath." John smirked, closing his eyes and pointing to his chest. "I'm one of the most skill melee-" He was interrupted by something hard prodding him in the chest. He opened his eyes to see Faris, poking him repeatedly with one tip of the quarter staff."

"So… I guess I win." Faris flipped his staff, barely blocking a violent swing to his forehead.

John narrowed his eyes at Faris but didn't speak, he gripped the staff with both hands, taking a combat stance.

"Wow… I thought you were the best fighter John…" Cynthia sighed. John didn't respond, his eyes remained on Faris, who was leaning slightly on his staff.

"Come one John, should I take the first swing?" Faris asked.

John didn't respond, remaining stock still in his stance, in stark contrast to Faris, who constantly shifted as he leaned on his staff. They stood for half a minute more before Faris shifted slightly to the right, causing John to lash out with his staff.

Again, Faris barely blocked the swing, but his staff was pushed back, causing him to retreat. John attempted to go on the offensive but the opposite end of Faris's staff came back in the upswing, blocking the next attack. John raised an eyebrow but pressed forward, using his weight to continue his swing. Faris continued to backtrack, blocking and dodging swings and thrusts but not counter attacking. They continued their battle for a few minutes, then broke off, with John circling Faris. They breathed heavily, eying each other for a few seconds.

"Okay, I admit, you aren't the worst melee fighter in the world." John admitted, smirking.

"John…" Cynthia called out dryly, "Didn't you get your but handed to you by Nya yesterday?"

John glowered as Faris laughed, charging at the youth. Faris had kept his eyes on John the entire time, deflecting John's thrust into the ground, Faris placed his foot firmly on John's quarterstaff, forcing the tip into the ground. John jerked awkwardly from the impact and barely blocked Faris's upward swing with his non dominant arm.

It was Faris's turn to be caught off guard when John let go of his staff and punched Faris with a straight jab. Faris was knocked back, falling on his back.

"…Ow…" He got up, looking at the panting John. "Okay, you aren't too bad either." He smirked, wiping his face. He took John's hand and got up.

"Our broker's coming." Vern announced.

Faris turned, following Vern's gaze and seeing someone leaving a building a few hundred feat back. "The… the one with red hair?"

"…Yeah, have you met him before?" Vern replied, somewhat surprised.

"No? Why?" Faris asked, "He's not that far away. I mean, he must have been in a hurry, because a bit of it is tussled in front over his left eye."

"I have the best vision amongst us Faris, but even I can't make out the color of his hair from this distance, or that it's visible under his hood."

Their conversation was cut off as the hooded figure approached, red hair covering the left of his face.

"Sorry gents, I was getting the debriefing…" The 'broker' was young man with a thin mustache, auburn hair hung to his side, a more natural red than Faris's. His cloak was a simple, black with light blue insignias of the Broddring Kingdom emblazoned all over. The broker's head turned over to Faris's direction. "And this young fellow must be your new member… hmm, young, or a girl and young."

Faris raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm a guy, why are…" He caught himself, looking at the man's eyes.

"Blind? Yes." The man winked. "Anyways, if you have any more questions, save it for after the briefing."

Faris shook his head.

"…Boy, I'm blind, I'm waiting for a yes sir."

"Yes sir." Faris says, ignoring his teammate's stifled giggling.

"Good, now." The man reaches into a satchel, and took out five parchments. Cynthia walked up, picking one up for each of them, then returned to the group, handing them to each team member. "So, I'll have you all open those parchments as I tell you your assignment." He waited a few seconds before continuing.

"Two days ago, there was an attempted murder of an Urgal representative for the great games. He was a member of the grey-skull tribe. He and witnesses attest to being attacked by a group of humans and dwarves. And yesterday, there was an attack on the son of the war chief of the Catch-Tooth tribe. Luckily, the culprit was found, a member of the dwarven clan Vrenshrrgn, who happened to be habiting the same lodging as the catch-tooth tribe."

"What?!" Manny asked incredulously. "I was always of the understanding that Urgals and dwarves normally disliked each other, why would they share the same lodgings?"

"Most lodgings for guests were destroyed during the siege, different clans and tribes had to lodge together, but we had done our best to make sure dwarven clans that have a close relationship stood together, and urgal clans that weren't at odds were together. We didn't have the space to give to the Vrenshrrgn clan, unless we wanted to lodge them in the castle, which would be inappropriate."

"It would have seemed like we were favoring the dwarves over the Urgals, and if we moved the Catch-Tooth tribe to the castle, the opposite would have held." Manny stated.

The broker nodded, smiling, "there weren't any other buildings with living spaces large enough to hold either group comfortably, and the Catch-Tooth tribe was gracious enough to share half the space in their lodging to the Vrenshrrgn clan. Relations were cold but cordial until yesterday's attack, at least, for the first half. City agents reported the two groups reconciling quite easily, and the one responsible for the attack on the Urgal was punished. But this morning, he and the two dwarven guards responsible for his imprisonment were murdered."

"What?!" Faris interrupted. "But Lord Vulcan's and Lord Volund guarding them! How were they…?"

"He can't be everywhere at once, there was an overview of the games, and he had to attend, alongside the majority of dwarves and urgals, those three were alone. But the fact they were murdered wasn't the issue, the weapons were the issue, they were killed by Urgal made arrows, and when the investigation team searched the home, they found several arrows missing from the first injured Kull's quiver. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, the Representatives of the Clan Vrenshrrgn don't believe the Catch-Tooth tribe representatives did anything, but the other dwarven clans think otherwise and call for blood."

"So…. what do you want us to investigate?" Cynthia asks.

"The dwarves will be gathering this afternoon as they prepare for the games. Students from the mage and soldier divisions are also partaking in the youth division of the great games, and so, you'll be there, listening in, seeing if you can discover anything, afterwards you will rendezvous with an agent, confer the information discovered, and look over the room."

"This seems a bit more important than your average mission." Faris started. "While I'm not sure about the competency of my teammates, I'm literally new, this isn't even my third week, I've not attended a single course, and I've just been cleared by the physicians and medical mages for physical activity again, what help would I provide?"

"Other than the fact you were in the same lodgings as the dwarves and urgals yesterday and know both languages?" The blind broker smiled. "I couldn't hazard a guess otherwise. In fact, Vulcan gave you shining praise."

Faris frowned, "Do I have to be at the meet up with other mage and knight students?"

"Disobeying orders?" The man raised an eyebrow.

"No, I just feel… it would be…" Faris began hesitantly.

"Don't prattle, I'm aware of your circumstances shade-touched…" Faris frowned at the broker's words. "Oh… touched a nerve?"

"Aren't you blind?" Faris countered, slightly irritated, "How can you tell if you touched a nerve?"

"Your breathing, the way your body shifts, and your tone of voice just now, you'll have to forgive me child, but eyes, and in your case, magic, isn't required to read an opponent. But, I have some understanding of your situation, I was informed of it, and in leu of that, I'll let you and one of the other apprentices arrive at the lodgings of the Vrenshrrgn Clan and Catch-Tooth clan and "investigate" in peace, you won't have to worry about running into them yet." After a bit of awkward silence, he smirked, "I'm waiting for a thank you, boy."

"Thank you, boy." Faris responded, the man jumped in shock as he heard Faris behind him. Faris smirked, "So, who's coming with me?"

"That's for you to decide." The broker shook his head, and turned to leave.

As they watched him leave Faris turned to the others. "Uh… how does he navigate throughout the city?" They responded by glaring at him. "What?"

"That was tactless, the broker is the most important member of any squad." Cynthia began. "You cannot disrespect him, especially after he's made a concession, act your station."

"Act my station?" Faris asked questioningly, "Aren't we all knight apprentices here?"

"We…" She began, gesturing to herself, John, Manny, and Vern, "are knight apprentices, you aren't even a squire, you are a new recruit, the results of your written tests aren't out yet, and you haven't taken the physical portion, so at the moment we have to treat you as a liability, given your lack of tact, that's not an inappropriate assumption."

Faris smiled ingratiatingly, "Well, I apologize, I didn't mean to offend him, or you, or speak out of… station."

"You'd do best to remember then." She replied curtly, she turned to Manny, "You'll keep an eye on him whilst you investigate the lodgings, makes sure he doesn't offend anyone else."

Manny nodded and gave Faris an apologetic smile. As the two youngest members watched the others leave Manny turned to Faris. "Sorry, Cynthia's a little… rude sometimes."

Faris shook his head, "I did somewhat treat that Broker rudely, so I guess I'll apologize to her later. But let's walk and talk."


	9. Chapter 9

"That insufferable fool's going to ruin our prospects." Cynthia announced once she believed she was out of earshot of Faris and Manny. Vern awkwardly looked towards the pair's direction then towards Cynthia, whilst John simply lightly poked his chest. "I mean," Cynthia continued, "First, he's a commoner, and he's a mage, most mages are cowardly backhanded-"

"Former mage Cynthia, he lost his magic, we were debriefed on his situation, and it's best not to advertise things like that…" John said simply, "And yes, he is annoying, but I wouldn't call him a fool, no one who can fight like him is a fool."

Cynthia stared at John flatly, "He fooled you and got in a free hit, and you won anyways, the only reason you lose to your cousin is because you both received the same training and she has magic."

John shook his head, "He took advantage of me when my guard was down yes, but I didn't notice him creep up to me. And you saw it demonstrated again with our broker, that man could hear a fly pass wind 100 feet away yet Faris waltzed behind him, we didn't even notice until he spoke, it was almost like… like magic."

"Do you think the higher ups lied to us? The only reason we agreed to allow him into our squad was the repeated insistence that he didn't have magic anymore."

"Yeah yea, I get it, but not every magic user is in that mage's school, we have more than a few trainees who can use magic."

"But none of those squads have our level of achievement, and we have no magic, we're a symbol John." Cynthia continued. "Think about it, the second highest achieving knight squad has two magic users, granted they're in the anti-mage faction, they're still magic users, and they still use magic in their missions, but they were rejected by the mage school, and so our faction took them in, took in the rejects." She shakes her head, "But Faris would be different, he was one of their promising students, you saw the recording of his fight with those 10 mages remember? Then the controversy surrounding him." They made it to the outside of the grand meeting hall, a giant open-air pavilion with 4 large entrances in each cardinal direction, as the three Knight apprentices walked in Cynthia quieted, speaking in almost a whisper. "He was a golden child, literally the youngest pearl mage in existence, coming out of nowhere, with no real political or noble backing, the controversy around him makes him a folk hero in the people's eyes, and the fact he lost his magic, well, once the games start, you'll really understand what I mean." She waived to some other knight apprentices as their group of three went to join the others…

"Hey, Faris?" Manny turned to the younger knight apprentice? "I don't want to come off as rude, but…"

"You're wondering if I can use magic?" Faris asked, "I don't mind you asking, the answer is no unfortunately.

"I have no real qualms whether you have magic or not, I'm not part of the anti-mage faction, I simply don't have magic." Manny replied quickly, "It's more that… you were able to sneak up on our Broker, no one sneaks up on Brokers if they aren't using magic."

"Oh?" Faris asked, "And, what magic do you believe I used?"

"You could have turned invisible, hidden the sound of your movement, or hastened and lightened your steps. But that wouldn't be possible because you didn't utter a single word in the ancient language. Unless…"

"Unless?" Faris goaded softly.

"Unless one can cast spells without chanting out loud."

"But that's impossible isn't it?" Faris smiled, putting his hands behind his head and leaning his head back as they continued walking.

"It was considered impossible for someone to return from becoming a shade." Manny looked at Faris evenly. "So, by the fact that was discounted, it's not too farfetched to at the least speculate that you've broken another rule of magic."

Faris laughed, "Astute, but still incorrect." Faris extended his hand, pointing at a piece of rubble, Manny turned to glance at it. "I'd more than anything wish I had my magic… but I don't." Manny flinched as he heard Faris behind him.

"What?!"

"Human perception is really something you know?" Faris sighed, "You blink, twitch, breath, think about anything else for an instant, and almost anyone will get caught unawares, I'll move during that time period, I'll make myself feel small, I'll hide everything about me, both mentally and physically, and I'll move in that lapse of concentration." He laughs, "Of course, it helps when the opponent is flustered, mad, or injured, tired, basically any negative trait or disposition." The broker's blind, so I don't need to worry about his vision, I just take a step every time he breaths, in between the consonants of his speech, and whilst he's still looking down on me, remember, he, and all of you, thought he got me flustered and annoyed."

"And you weren't, at all?"

"Manny, literally nothing he could say to me at that time could shake me." Faris shrugs, "I don't know him, and I have no real frame of reference to his actions, other than the fact he likes teasing people maybe? He's not hurt me or anyone I know physically or emotionally, and he's an ally, so I don't care about what he says."

"That's not true." Manny said.

"Really? Why not?" Faris laughed.

Manny continued, smiling in turn, "You wouldn't have made a point to sneaking behind him."

"Fair, I admit, I was a little bothered. But enough of that." Faris dropped his smile as they approached the large building.

Manny observed the lodgings, it was 4 stories tall and much wider than it was tall, a grand entrance with several carvings of dragons laminating the door. "So, Urgals and Dwarves were lodged here, and three dwarves were killed here."

"A dwarf under house arrest and his two guards. The dwarf having been put under house arrest for being part of an attack on a young Kull, who didn't call out for blood." Faris continued. Two men wearing kingdom regalia and bearing badges walked up to them.

"Hey kids, get out of here, an official investigation's going on." The man glared at the two, an air of intimidation about him.

"What's going on?" His partner called.

"Just a couple of kids." The man turns back to Faris and Manny, raising an eyebrow when Manny hands him a document. "Oh? Well, never mind, it's the Jr. Investigation team."

"Really?!" The second man, a young man with a well-groomed mustache raised an eyebrow, "These kids?"

"Yes, these kids, now may we please see the crime scene?" Faris said, walking past the first man.

The second merely chuckled, opening the door and allowing Manny and Faris inside…

"So, John, ready for me to kick you in the keister again?!" Nya smirked, poking the tall boy in the shoulder.

John gave a strained smile; his fellow knight apprentices weren't as accommodating.

"Why are you here!?" One of them demanded. "This venue is for actual competitors, not cheaters!"

"Cheaters?" Nya smirked, "You mean you think I need to use magic to beat you in a fight?" She lifted a hand, beckoning them forward, "Come at me then."

John moved his hand, blocking one of the knight apprentices. "If anyone swings a fist, every one of us will be reprimanded, she's just getting under your skin."

Nya winks, "Very astute cousin. It looks like you've at least improved your talking and reasoning."

"Yeah yea," John ignored turning to look at the rest of the complex. It was a large cylindrical amphitheater with an incomplete dome like roof, pulleys on the sides would raise a tarp over, but otherwise it would be left open for the air and sun to illuminate. It was filled with humans, dwarves, and urgals, but there was a definite partition. The dwarves on the western side, the Urgals on the east, and the humans smack dab in the middle, and even with the humans, ones predominantly on the mage faction were on one side, with the anti-mage faction on another side. Standing near the center was a representative of the monarchy, Queen Nasuada had no children or living immediate relatives, perhaps other than her relatives in the desert tribes down in Surda. For this reason, the representatives were chosen through rigorous testing and examination. This representative, a middle-aged woman with glittering dark eyes and dusty brown hair with streaks of gray, turned to a younger man wearing a black robe with gold linings. She nodded at the man and he raised his eyes, muttering a few words, soundless against the cacophony of different peoples speaking. After a few seconds he lowered his hands and nodded to the woman, she smiled and turned back to the crowd.

"Hello, citizens and guests of the Kingdom, I thank you for gathering, each and every one of you are here either as a participant of the games or a member of the participating teams, and I thank you for your patience in these trying times." Her voice, amplified by magic, reverberated across the amphitheater. "I am sure you are all aware, but only just a month ago our city had been the victim of a heinous attack that led to the deaths of dozens of our soldiers and several of our citizens, if not for the brave work of the men and women who serve our nation, and of those of you who stood to fight, more of our people's lives would have been slain." She paused, allowing the people to murmur, after a few moments she continued, smile unwavering, "Upon the 'thorough questioning' of the attackers." John shuddered at the nature of the 'questioning'. "We discovered that they were members of the organization known as the Scarlett Heart, for those of you who know, the Scarlett Heart is a remnant of the False Religion known as Helgrind merged with the stragglers of The Black Hand. They came to attack us, to try and send a message of fear, to ruin our representation of peace and communication between the races of our proud land." She frowned, "To be frank, they are the remnants of losers, ghosts of a begotten time, clinging to the wisps of a tyrannical despot who would have led this land to its ruin." She smiles, "And that monster who boasted godlike powers, who had an army so vast it could emulate a sea, he was defeated by your efforts, by your parents, by your siblings, by your children, and we've begun to thrive as a result, these Great Games are a representative of our peace, and they dare take it away from us?" Her face became animated as she spoke with more force, "No! They will not take the peace we established! They will not sow fear and discord into our unity!"

This was followed by clapping and cheering from the humans, rowdy chants and hurrahs from the dwarves, and howls and chest beating from the Urgals. The representative smiled the entire time, her hands raised to their sides, she began lowering them in tandem with the crowd's quieting down, a conductor easing her chorus into their diminuendo. They stood silent for a few more moments, then she began to speak again.

"I thank you for gathering, and I wish you all the best in these great games, due to the work done between our respective territories, at least one display mirror is in every major gathering point in our respective major cities, our citizens and nobility alike will have the honor of viewing your feats of strength, speed, agility, artistry, and intelligence. Today, you will be receiving the itinerary, and tomorrow, the preliminary matches will begin, not every match begins at the same moment, and you can do multiple matches, but you must pace yourself, put your best into every moment, every game you compete in, in every competition you put yourself forward in, again, like shown in the past game, the most popular competitions are the footraces, the test of strength, and the armed and unarmed combat zones, combatants will be arranged in strength, size, age, and weight, then the winners can chose to drop off or compete in further matches, those who are runner ups have the opportunity to partake in a further match if the winner of their bracket ends up dropping off. We are also pleased to add that two new game venues, both of which our test groups have reported are enjoyable to view and play have been introduced. The first is called _Böllr Fryn_, or War Ball, it will be exciting explaining it to those who will partake in it, though due to how physically demanding it is, it will be near the end of the competition. The next game is called Wander Tag." She smiled, "Thank you again for gathering, and I wish you all the best of luck! For Alagaesia!" Her call was echoed by the majority of people in the room, the only ones who didn't chant or shout or cheer were a couple of dwarves and humans in a corner of the room, well, them and Vern, who had been observing them for a bit…

"Nice the games are going to start, who's your money on Burt!" The mustached investigator prodded his partner.

The taller man chuckled. "My money's on Garzhvog, or his son, Murdock, the Bolvek Tribe always does well in the combat rounds."

"My money's on Lockheed the swift." The mustached man announced, "He's still the best runner, and is insane with the rapier, he won the past three races and got second place in the 1 on 1 combat rounds."

"Yeah, well he didn't have to fight an Urgal until the end, so…" The two continued bickering outside, Manny shook his head.

"Distracting, this is really serious, why aren't they even in this room!" Though Manny sighed, he couldn't make heads or tails of the crime scene, the dwarves were killed in the room, any evidence that could be claimed was burned through magical flames. The corpses had been removed, but each and every one of them had been stabbed and gored. The report read that the corpses had then been riddled with several dozen arrows with black feathers and hooked arrow heads, a style of arrows primarily used by urgals. Faris simply walked to two especially dark spots and peered at them, after his moment of silence he turned to Manny.

"I'm going to check out the dwarfs' rooms." He stepped outside. He approached the two investigators, who busily observed the viewing crystal. "Hey, did anyone investigate the rooms of the guards or of the one under house arrest?" It took an inordinate amount of time for one of them to turn to Faris and wave him off. Faris flipped him off and turned to Braxen's room.

"Weird kid," One of them muttered, "What was that hand sign?"

Faris walked into Braxen's room. The bed, closet, and even clothes were untouched. The window had been fixed since he'd last been here, and only traces of the fight he had with the assassins remained. Faris brushed his hand over a thin scar in the wall, left from the tip of a dagger. He began searching the room, comparing it to his memory, everything seemed to remain, every single thing, even clothes and jewelry remained in the room, but as he continued to search, he finally realized what was missing. "That statue…" He remembered a statue of a pretty, stout, dwarven woman with a necklace and a symbol of an eye with a tear-drop shaped pupil. Faris observed the spot the statue was missing from. He returned back to the two men.

"What? Some statue's missing? Okay, so maybe the attack was robbery related." The mustached man didn't turn to look at Faris."

"CAN YOU CONSIDER THE IMPLICATIONS?" Faris shouts, "The statue's the only thing missing. Maybe they took it for a reason."

"Yeah, probably." The mustached one chuckles. His partner, Burt, looked at Faris for a bit.

"Okay, I'll bite kid, I can think of the implications." He says. "What was the symbol?" He watches as Faris draws it, an eye with a pupil the shape of a teardrop. "Interesting, never heard of it."

"Maybe the dwarfs know." Faris announced.

"Great, smart." The man smirked sarcastically. "I'll get right on it."

Faris smiled back. "Okay, you do that, if a war between Urgals and Dwarves break out, your sarcastic dismissiveness will be a lovely addition in the history books."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, are you daft? If that was a threat, I'd be insulting you, like how your friend's mustache looks more waxed than a prize-winning pig." Faris ducked under the moustache man's swing and jabbed him in the armpit, causing him to scream in pain.

"Hey!" Burt reached to grab unto Faris, who stepped forward, headbutting the man in the chin and causing him to buckle forward. Faris pushed him on his butt and steps on his chest.

"Hey, look at that, a child beat you, do you know what that means? It means you can be taken advantage of, really easily. You know what else that means?"

Manny ran out of the room to stare in horror at the scene. "Faris, get off of them!"

"Nope." Faris replied evenly, "These guys are pissing me off, you're pissing me off, this entire situation is pissing me off. Bjorn and Aldo were two honorable Dwarven Guards, Aldo couldn't drink, and Bjorn thought wine wasn't alcohol, but they were humorful, and nice folks. I knew them for less than a day, but they were people, and they had hopes and dreams like everyone else, and you two piss shits can't even pretend to be remotely interested in this situation." Faris yelled at the investigators, who attempted to get up.

"What if they were human nobility? Would you act so lazy? I read the report, I was debriefed, it says Urgals did it, you guys probably think Urgals did it too, and maybe some of them did, but we have to find out, or else we could have actual bloodshed."

"And…who cares." One of the investigator growls, "The Urgals did probably do it, the dwarf attacked an Urgal, an Urgal attacked and killed three dwarves, seems open and shut."

"At least until the mages come around and recreate the scenes using magic." Faris adds, "Would it kill you to at least try?"

"Try what? We don't do much, we try and boom, with magic it is done, the fact they keep us on our payroll is a joke, an insult, it's easy money, so why should we try?" Faris lets them off, and they dust themselves off.

Manny pulled Faris away. "Faris, you can't go around attacking our superiors, if they want to, they can have us arrested."

Faris sighs, "I apologize, I'd rather not, act out, but they aren't treating this seriously."

This was followed by the door below opening, mage investigators announcing their arrival and making their way upstairs.

"Boy, we aren't treating this seriously because the mages will come in and just solve the mystery, like they always did. In fact, I think they discovered your whole debacle."

Faris smiles, "Yes, my whole debacle, they did a fantastic job, didn't you hear?" An awkward silence filled the room. Followed by Faris's chuckle. "Hypocrites."


	10. Chapter 10

The Head Investigator for the Mage Division of the investigation squad was a man with an impeccable record of arrests and convictions.

"Hello, long time no see."

An almost impeccable record. He looked at Faris, almost glaring at the boy, a representative of his failings. Faris for his part smiled, seeming very aware of the discomfort his appearance was to the mages. "You're still guilty of killing without authorization."

"Fair." Faris admitted, shrugging, "And if I had been convicted for that, fair, though, I wasn't, and you don't pay much attention for what happens to the people you arrest."

"Why are you here?" The man finally snapped. "I'm conducting an investigation; you aren't a mage, anymore are you? What became of you was… regrettable but…"

"Don't worry, I'm not here to get in the way." Faris said, "I'm part of the investigation." He handed the Investigator a parchment, the man took it, eyes narrowed as he read it. Turning from Faris he looked at the burnt room. Then to the two adult investigators, then to Manny.

"So, I take it you are the non-mage investigators?" He looked at them all dubiously, "I doubt you found anything of note." He frowned as Faris just smiled at him.

"Just do your investigation sir." Faris said. The Investigator snorted, turning towards the room, he took out a crystal, and he and the fellow mages besides him began chanting in the ancient language.

Faris observed that they spoke words asking to recall an event, looking for the truth, and being enlightened. He watched in interest as constructs of 3 squat individuals sat in the three blackest burn spots. Two of the constructs moved to one end of the room, then another, then moved in front of the last one, then a flicker of something rushed into the room, and all three constructs collapsed. Then the light changed to a bright red-orange and exploded out. The mages cut the spell at that moment.

"It's… likely not Urgals, unless it was an Urgal Shaman." The investigator began.

"It couldn't be, at least, it isn't likely one." Faris said, "Bjorn, one of the guards, knew magic. If there had been a spell cast to knock them down, he would have done something against it, and…"

"Oh, hush up you-" The mage was cut off by the lead mage investigator, who observed Faris with a renewed interest.

"One of the dwarven guards knew magic?" The investigator asked. "Which one?"

"Bjorn was the most muscular one, with the thicker beard."

The Investigator turned to his aides, he pointed at the crystal. The scene of three constructs was recreated.

"Come on sir! It's a waste of time, how could that kid have met dwarves, let alone-"

"I didn't mention the names of the deceased." The investigator interrupted, "If he is fibbing, he at least knew the names of the dwarves in this incident." The turns to Faris sharply, "But if this was a lie, then know you won't get away with lying to an officer."

"I can speak the ancient language, but noted." Faris watched as the images sharpened, allowing them to focus on the faces and movements of the guards. There was no sound, but they noticed as the chained-up dwarf began to shake erratically, then began to froth in the mouth. The two guards walked towards the chained dwarf, then turned suddenly, the magic user had risen his hand, he lost it, as he lost it, it seemed as if everything disappeared. The second dwarf fell suddenly after swinging his sword then blocking an attack. "Should… should we not be able to see who entered the room?"

"…no? Everyone should be revealed, the spell even lets us see if someone is hiding themselves through magic." The Investigator looked at Faris. "It does look like Bjorn was preparing to block a spell. Though, I can't recreate that scene too often, it costs magic, do you have an idea of any other rooms?"

Faris led them to Braxen's bedroom, and they cast the spell, watching as the statuette Faris noted missing seemed to disappear from existence, even after casting the spell thrice, the statuette seemed to disappear. The investigator then cast a spell, and began to pale as parts of the room were highlighted blue except for a trail through the door to the desk to the window.

"Wait, doesn't this just mean there was the spell?" One of the nonmagical investigators followed the line. "They cast a spell that traveled to the statue, then out the window?"

"No." Faris shook his head, "The blue? That's magic, that's magic that enters this room, magic that should be everywhere, because so many people cast spells on a daily basis, the air is covered in this really thin mist of it, it dissipates quickly, and it's nearly indetectable outside of cities, in fact, he pointed to the men, and to Manny, who looked at their hands and fingers with shock, seeing the slight blue highlights. "The thing that gets me is that everyone is capable of learning magic, the fact high ranking knights have crystals that cast spells for them by draining their stamina is indicative of that, because every mage who casts spells without aid casts magic which drains their stamina."

"But Faris…" Manny pointed a trembling finger at Faris, who's body gave off no mana, it seemed as if the air was thinning around him.

"Oh this?" Faris began, "Yeah, that's what happened to me, I was turned into a monster, and when I resisted, I lost my magic, I'm not even like a normal person. You give a person a crystal enchanted to allow them to cast a spell on a command word, and then they can cast a spell. Depending on how complex, how much time, and how much energy is put in the spell, they could cast as if they were an exemplary mage, minus the stamina, mental fortitude, and perhaps experience, but then, there's me." He smiled, holding his hands to his eyes, "Oh, it's glowing red, that's great."

The Investigator cut off the spell. "Do you have a description of the statue's personal effects?"

"Yes." Faris gave him the description. "You did hear from Vulcan that I was attacked in this room, right?"

"I was told someone was attacked; I was never debriefed on who was attacked." The investigator looked at Faris thoughtfully, "Thank you, this information will help with the investigation." He turned to the adult non-mage investigators, "Good job guiding this one, he's a smart boy, but also wild and dangerous, thank you for your assistance, I will confer with you and your superiors, as it seems the enemy has a way of masking their identity even when we use spells."

The investigators stammered their thanks and agreement. Manny bowed simply, Faris inclined his head in deference. "Thank you for your assistance as well, and for not attacking or arresting me because magic seemed to be absorbed around me."

"It's not at the level to arouse suspicion, and, I believe you didn't kill them, you don't seem the type."

"Is the evidence telling you that?" Faris asked.

"No," The investigator smiled, "It's a gut feeling…."

"Nya!" Katya smacked Nya in the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Nya rubbed the back of her head.

"Don't antagonize the opponents." Katya said. "They already have so many things going against them."

"O ha-ha Katya." Cynthia called out, "That's not very saintly of you."

"I'm not a saint." Katya smirks, "Anyways, bye."

"Oh, come on, I wasn't done with them." Nya began.

"Yeah, well they're done with you." Katya announced. "Come on, let's join the others."

They navigated through the mages of all ages, reaching a group of other kids, each one wearing silver sashes.

"So…" Morgan began, looking at Katya and Nya, "How bad did she anger them?" He laughed, throwing up his hands in defense.

"That bad?" Seya smirked, "Well, seeing as how they didn't follow you; it probably wasn't that bad."

"Of course, you'd say that Seya." Bartholomew quipped.

"What, what would I have to say that wouldn't be me?" Seya asked.

"Well, for one, you'd have to be sweet milk and tea levels of nice, like an innocent granny." Bartholomew said, "Then of course you'd have to-"

"I suggest you stop; no one wants to get hurt." Seya said smiling, she laughed watching him pale, then stuck out her tongue.

"Meanie." He muttered. "Man… I'm bored, that lady's been talking for nearly an hour now and there's no good food. Right Venka?" They turned to Venka, who sat with her eyes closed, eyelids twitching rapidly.

"Venka? Hello!?" Nya snapped her fingers in front of Venka. Venka flinched, causing the air in front of her to erupt in light and sound. Nya cursed as she snapped her finger back.

"S-sorry!" Venka shouted in embarrassment, "I was… concentrating."

"On Faris?" Morgan asked teasingly, "Practicing that spell?"

"What spell?" Seya asked with interest.

"It's like… draumr kópa, but I can cast it against darkness."

"Costs a ton of magic, nearly killed me" Morgan laughs.

"Dully noted." Bartholomew said cautiously. "So, what did you see?"

Venka smiled lightly, "Faris seems, alright."

Nya looked a little sad, "Man, I miss him, first Faris, then the twins are leaving for Ellesméra."

Bartholomew whined, "Man… I miss his food."

"Hey guys." Morgan clapped his hands, "Don't fret, Alanna and Dusan will contact us as soon as they arrive. And Faris is definitely doing alright, else Venka would have marched out of this city." They laughed.

This laughter was cut short by shouts and dwarven oaths. The Formerly Pearl Initiate First years pushed and weaved past mages and non-mages, witnessing what had gotten the crown in an uproar.

A group of dwarves led by an auburn bearded dwarf was pushing back a larger group of dwarves, who attempted to get past them towards a group of urgals, who were similarly held back by a pair of young Kull. Kingdom knights and mages were doing their best keeping others from entering the circle, whilst also trying to shout and plead with both groups to calm down.

One of the dwarves trying to push through began to shout in Dwarvish, which was followed by equally loud shouting from the red-bearded dwarf. The first to stop pushing forward were the urgals, who simply backed off after a few short words from one of the younger looking Urgals, as they moved back towards their group the knights spoke to them, then to the youth, then let them part. The hostile dwarves, seeing this, grew inflamed, and attempted to push past the red-bearded dwarf once more. One dwarf even punched the red-bearded dwarf in the face, causing the auburn dwarf to fall back, utilizing this gap, the dwarves streamed through, charging towards a kull youth who hadn't yet made it through the knights.

A loud voice called out, amplified by magic. The crowd quieted as Vulcan landed in the middle of the circle, standing in-between the dwarves and one kull youth. He glared at the dwarves and barking orders in the dwarven tongue. The dwarves who had been ready to attack look inflamed, then reddened even brighter, glancing around then throwing their hands up, turning towards the dwarves who had blocked them, they walked past them, pushing past the red-bearded dwarf and disappearing into the crowd. Vulcan turned to the knights and mages, and after a few more words, walked up to the red-bearded dwarf, helping him up.

Venka took this opportunity to slip past the knights, distracted by Vulcan's arrival.

"Wait! You can't-" The knight was interrupted by Vulcan's dismissive wave.

"It's alright, I know her." He said gruffly. "Though, lass, shouldn't you be with the rest of your friends?"

Venka shook her head, "They're here, we're also attending the Great Games and contestants, but, I wanted to know, you had Faris help you in the lodging situation, I just saw him somewhere with the same Inspector that arrested him, did, did he get arrested again!?"

"No, no." Vulcan shook his head, "If he's there, he must be helping regarding…" He looked towards the red-bearded dwarf, who nodded.

"She's a friend of that red-eyed lad, right?" He coughs, "If you think she's a trustworthy lass, I don't mind…" He clenched his fist, "Right now humans and even Urgals are being more 'clan-like' than other dwarves." He turned to the Urgal. "Sorry Gork, you were about to be attacked by my people for nothing."

"It's alright." The kull rubbed his horn, then turned to Venka. "You said Faris right? You know Faris Ushnek?"

"Ushnek?" Venka repeated. "I thought his family name was-"

"Let's," Vulcan interrupted, "Talk about this elsewhere, we're making a scene." He turned to Venka, "Join your friends, and if you want to, come to the Vroengaurd Inn. Gork, Mantle Greybeard, and I can explain things to an extent. Venka nodded, turning to join her friends.

"You trust that lass?" Mantle, the red-bearded leader of the Vrenshrrgn clan asked.

"You may not have heard, but the boy who I asked to assist in the peace was captured by the same group that attacked the city. They experimented on him, and whilst everyone was busy with the city, she, and those children with her, attempted a rescue attempt, and from what I was told, they did quite well, even killing a shade."

**"A WHAT?!"** Gork and Mantle said in unison.

"Calm down." Vulcan laughed, "Yes, truly amazing, but, it's because of that." He looked to them, "I trust them a bit, and who knows, a new rider may be amongst them…"

"So!" Katya asked, grinning, "What was all that about?"

Venka stammered, "I-I just wanted to know what was going on."

"Really?" Nya asked, "You sound a bit nervous Venka."

"Nope, she's being truthful." Seya announced, "I heard their entire conversation."

"Really?" Katya looked dubious.

"Would I really cover this girl's butt? She's more liable to ruin both our covers."

"That's not true you little-!" Venka was interrupted by Morgan and Bartholomew returning with the Games Itinerary.

"Seya, come on, stop teasing Venka."

"I don't need help against her!" Venka shouted.

"Of course, you don't," Seya smiled. "You're a big, strong girl."

"Anyways," Morgan said, cutting of any interruptions, "Here's the itinerary, the preliminary matches and competitions for the most part won't be as strict with their results. The most popular is of course the footrace, starting from Gate Ajihad, arcing through some cleared up land and through a small town, then back around towards Gate Hrothgar, through the main street, out through Gate Eragon, and arcing through more forest toward the north then back into the city through Gate Islanzadí towards the victory pavilion, first 200 move on to the next round of long distance races. Then of course there's the horse riding, lancing, unarmed combat, weapon combat, and swim competition. So, we're all allowed to do the run and long-distance races, but lancing and horseback racing is limited to one person, since we don't have the budget, does anyone want to lance?" He looked at his friends for a few moments. "Okay, who wants to race horses?" He frowned, "Come on guys, at least one of us has to try, we have to make it to round 5 in either the lancing or horse race."

"That's a stupid condition and you know it." Seya mutters, "We're relying on something else's strength."

"Hey, a horse racer is a unit, a combination of man and beast, you must forge a connection between yourself and your horse, and you shall surpass even the greatest." Bartholomew began saying, then he burst out laughing. "Ah… I took some riding lessons, so I'll do it."

"Horse Jockeys are normally light Bart." Seya said pointedly.

"Hey! I'm plenty light! Lost several dozen stones over the month!" Bartholomew yelled, "Besides, who else would do it?" He waited, then waited some more before smugly speaking, "Exactly…"

**"YOU WHAT?!"** Cynthia screamed, bringing her staff down at full force, Faris deflected the blow, watching as a cloud of dust puffed from the epicenter of the attack.

"I punched two senior non-mage investigators and teased/antagonized the head mage investigator, yeah, I also had evidence that the mage needed, so we ended up on the plus."

"I'm sorry, all I'm hearing is smug excuses, you don't attack senior officers, it doesn't matter what you achieved, am I understood!" She readied another swing, Faris deflecting with his own staff.

"Loud and clear ma'am." He drawled, making a feint towards her head before swinging downwards towards her legs, she reacted to both quickly. "Anyways, did you discover anything at the pavilion?" He paused, leaning on his staff.

The knight apprentices had agreed to meet back up in the training field, it had not yet reached sundown, so they had the time to reconvene, go over any info gathered, and think up a plan for both the games and the investigation.

"The relationship between the dwarves and urgals is deteriorating." Cynthia sighed, calming down a bit. "Just today a fight almost broke out, the Clan Feldûnost tried to attack Catch-Tooth Tribe members, and bar fights have broken between different clans and tribes. If you're telling the truth with what you found, then we'll have to find the culprits soon."

"I vouch for him Cynthia, he may have been… insubordinate to those investigators, but they weren't treating the situation with any real importance." Manny said, he was in the middle of testing the balance of his crossbow, checking the string wear, the integrity of the wood and coils, and his different bolt shafts.

John sighed, "I wish they could just announce that it wasn't the Urgals, or at least, that it wasn't just an Urgal."

"Yeah, that's a smart idea." Cynthia retorted, "Tell the citizens that someone or something has a way of escaping magical detection, and also apparently absorbs the residual flecks of energy left over from a spell being cast like a sponge and water or whatever, that this mysterious person or thing was able to slip past a rider and his dragon, and is still at large in this city."

"I'm not stupid Cynthia, I said 'I wish they could', I know they can't."

"Sure." Cynthia said shortly, "Onto the next important thing on the list, the games. John, you're taking the lancing? And Vern, you're doing the horse race correct?" The two nodded. "Good, Manny, have you been able to determine which running group each of us will be in?"

"Running group?" Faris asked, "Isn't the footrace just one giant competition."

"It is, but there are several hundred participants, and there's not limit to who can register, you have normal citizens on their days off who participate for the sake of participation, because of that, there are three groups of between 500 and 1000 racers each by the actual day of the games, however, the 200 person limit is still held, so only the first 66 in the first two races and the first 68 in the last race make it in." Manny explained.

"I guess that means more actual competitors compete in the last race, as it has the extra winner's space." Faris said.

"The opposite in fact." Manny answered, "Most official competitors compete in the first or second races, whilst the third is mostly full of normal citizenry, because of that, the third race has the highest bulk of racers."

"That's where you come in Faris, you're a part of our squad, but you didn't join quickly enough to be registered as an official competitor, you'd be considered a normal citizen. I think that's best for both the games and the investigation."

"Please elaborate." John asked, "He's a member of the squad, isn't he?"

"Well, to be fair, knight apprentices aren't exactly taken seriously, and his attitude towards his seniors doesn't help that." Cynthia sighs, "Look, Faris." She turned towards the boy, "I don't hate you, but I'm uncomfortable thinking about you waiving about official documents and acting like a smug fool, and unfortunately, while we're still waiting on the results of your mental aptitude tests, your physical scores leave a bit more to be desired."

"He's a talented combatant Cynthia!" John began, but Faris raised his hand.

"No, it's okay, I'm not the posh status symbol she was looking for at the moment." Faris genuinely laughed, "Anyways, since I'm not a member of your squad whilst competing, how will we convene information discovered?"

"Once a week." Cynthia smiled, "You seem to be taking this well."

"I mean," Faris shrugged, "You only insulted me, my physical ability, my temperament, and my general… aptitude, and I don't know you well enough for that to hurt." He placed the quarter staff on a weapon rack, "If you'll excuse me, I have to help an old man finish a loop of chains before he breaks his back, lord knows I don't have the physical aptitude for that!" He turned to leave before anyone could reply.


	11. Chapter 11

"Boy, you look angrier than a werecat in a cold shower." Gurant laughed as he watched Faris hammer away at the slab of metal in front of him.

"Maybe a little." Faris hammered once more, waiting for Gurant to fold the iron before hammering once again, after a few more moments they sprinkled ash on the iron, placed it in the crucible furnace, then began to hammer once more. After some time, they quenched the steel rectangle in water to quench it, watching as hot steam rapidly flew out.

Gurant grunted approvingly. "This is quality metal, we didn't need to mix wrought iron with pig iron, we simply melted the pig iron through that… contraption." He pointed at an almost egg-shaped contraption with an open hole on one end, multiple tubes, and an openable hole at the bottom.

"It's called the Bessemer process." Faris said, "Basically, since pig-iron is very impure, it melts faster than iron that's closer to pure. When the entire thing is molten, the impurities burn away faster as long as you can keep blowing air into it, and the oxidation helps keep temperatures high, we can make molds, and ingots that can be worked on at our leisure."

"Like this… sword of mine."

"I'm still telling you old man, you can't make a bunch of swords and press them together, at least not without magic." Faris muttered, but he was still helping.

"Never mind that, it's a pet project, a weapon to surpass the rider's swords without magic." Gurant muttered. Faris shook his head, he…no, Damien, had read about scientists discovering the existence of super-dense metals by emulating the extreme heat and pressure of the earth's core, a current impossibility, even with magic. Gurant continued, "The guns, have you designed anymore?" he asked, excited.

"Gurant, the last time we tried building a gatling gun it exploded. I'm working on fixing the design, but its trial and error." Faris said politely. He went towards a weapons rack, taking out 10 swords. "How many of these things do you want to make? The work on it is fantastic you know."

"Bah, can they beat a rider's sword?"

"I wouldn't know." Faris said, "I'm apparently not skilled enough to be a member of a knight apprentice squad for the great games."

Gurant burst out laughing, "Is that what's getting to you? Boy, there's no glory in swinging your sword, forging it, that's the real honor."

"I feel you're a biased source Gurant." Faris replied.

"But boy, you haven't used the firearms except for in tests, they would be powerful tools, no?"

"They'd be lethal tools; I'm not going to just carry something like that Gurant."

"It's not the tool, but it's user." Gurant replied.

"Sure…" Faris muttered. "Anyway, Gurant, are you sure you want to try this?" The Bessemer converter was very much up and running, and was about to try and dump the equivalent amount of steel for a dozen swords into a cast. "This isn't a sword we're making; it's going to be a blunt object in the shape of a sword.

"I know that boy, but we'll do it!" Gurant said, watching as the steel poured into the mold, then overflowed, spilling valuable metal onto the floor.

"Damnit!" Faris yelled, running to turn the machine off. "Are you hurt!" He turned to Gurant, who had already cleared away from the pale-yellow molten metal.

"Damn, the mold over flows…" Gurant's plan wasn't bad per say, the mold was made of several steel bands, with a clay interior and once more copper mold then a loose steel mold within the copper mold and finally a layer of tin. The molten steel would be poured in, the tin layer keeping it from hitting the rest of the steel, since both tin and copper had lower melting points than steel, the temperature would melt both metals quickly, the steel clamps would then tighten, squeezing the molten steel together, forcing it to compress, or at least, that was what Gurant hoped would happen, unfortunately the spaces between the tightening contraption was enough for molten steel, tin, and copper to spill out.

"Perhaps we try this some other time." Faris began. "It's almost dinner time."

"What will we do with the metal boy?" Gurant sighed, looking at the spill, "It's awful."

"Well…" Faris led Gurant out of the room, spilling the quenching bucket over the acrid molten metal. "First we get out of here before the fumes kill us. Then, we'll try and separate the stuff."

They locked up shop, walking the darkening streets towards Gurant's home, as they made their way, a loud voice stopped them.

"Hey!" The voice drunkenly called out, they turned to see a middle-aged man with several blotch-like bald spots and uneven stubble stumbling over to them. "You two! You seems a bit rich…" He muttered, "H-help a brother out…" He rushed forward, blocked by Faris before he could reach Gurant.

"I don't have drink money for you, so get out of my way." Gurant growled. The man frowned at that, but before he could retort, Faris stepped forward.

"Yes, unfortunately he already paid his apprentices, but I can spare a bit." Faris interrupted, handing the man several silver pieces. "This should be enough for several dozen more pints."

The man smirked, "Thankye kindly, it's nice that we didn't have to get violent…" He pushed Faris, stumbling into the darkness.

"You could have taken care of him." Gurant said.

"Yeah, then what would I have done with his unconscious or god-forbid dead body? I had the extra silver pieces."

"You mean my silver pieces."

"You paid me Gurant, as long as I'm not doing anything illegal, I'm free to spend my money right?"

Gurant snorts, "It's one thing to spend it on booze or harlots, but donating it to the drunk and homeless will just make you a target for extortion."

Faris smiled, "Look, it's nice to help people, besides, once I've chosen to help someone, their usage of the money isn't my problem unless they use it to hurt someone else." He smiles "Though, if they attack me for something as stupid as booze money even after I've tried to be nice, I'll drag them to the hospital myself."

Gurant chuckled grimly, "You have fight in you boy, I wonder how it would have been if you had been born 30 years earlier."

"I would have died like an idiot." Faris said.

"That may just have been." Gurant replied somberly. They arrived at the entrance of his home. Gurant grimaced at the floral arrangements lining his stairs.

"A woman's touch Gurant." Faris smiled, following the old blacksmith up his swept staircase to his nearly immaculate door. "A nearly unstoppable force."

"It's annoying, that's what it is." He muttered, "The house is perfectly good without their constant cleaning."

"Perfectly covered in soot."

"Boy!" Gurant yelled indignantly.

"Hey, you can complain about the cleanliness of the area once you hate mine or their cooking." Faris retorted. Gurant harrumphed, causing Faris to smile wryly. They were assaulted with the warm, scrumptious smell of stew and bread. They stepped into the house, warm dark orange walls that complimented the dark brown tones of the floor and furniture. A kitchen table set with porcelain plates awaited them. Already sitting were Dustin and Nina, Martha was working on the stew still, and it looked like Yura had just pulled bread out of the oven, turning to face the two.

"Oh! Welcome back, you're a home a bit earlier than normal, we'd have set everything by now if we'd known." Yura said, smiling.

Gurant just scowled as his stomach rumbled. "I'll go washup!" He declared. Faris stifled laughter as he went to the washroom.

"What's wrong?" Martha asked, concerned with Gurant's attitude.

"Oh, nothing, just another failure." Faris said.

"Oh, you must take it easy on him, he's a gruff man, but he does his best." Martha admonished.

"What?" Faris said defensively, "I should take it easy? That seems a bit presumptuous."

"Faris Ser." Yura put her hand on her hips, "You are combative to the point of humor, to the point that the times you act passive can actually terrify me. Anyways, go wash up, and don't forget the hair this time, I don't want any black grease on the table, we just washed the table cloth."

"Sure, I got it." Faris waived, heading to his washroom. Faris entered a simple grey room with a large basin about thrice as big as him, two valves were attached to a pipe that went through basin that ended in a spigot. There were two drains, one in the basin, and one without the basin, and a keen eye would notice the slight incline, water, regardless of its location, as long as it was on the floor, would at the least slowly go down the drain. As Faris turned on the spigot, he turned to look at himself in the mirror, then locked the door quickly. He shook his head as he heard the scuffling of feet. Dustin and Nina were curious kids, and for some reason or another they thought his red hair and eyes and scars were, neat? Cool? Regardless, he didn't want to scare them, they hadn't seen the worst of his scars, and even he felt sick looking at a few of them. He quickly stepped into the basin, sighing as the nearly burning water suffused heat into his skin through every inch of his body from the neck down. He took out the soap, lathering it with his hands and the water, and using it to lather his body and hair. The grease in his hair washed off quickly as he scrubbed thoroughly, getting all the dirt, sweat, oil, and body odor from his body. He pulled the plug and turned on the spigot, washing off the soap and dirt from his body and the grease from his hair. He stared forward, looking at the open window that helped ventilate the room. He closed his eyes, relaxing in the heat and feeling of water running over his skin, almost getting lost in the feeling, though as if on clockwork, after 120 seconds, he turned off the spigot and began drying himself off with a towel.

Standing in front of the mirror, he ran his hand-made comb through his hair, his hair had the tendency to get nappy, and combed hair was easier to evenly treat with the black grease, at least, for him it was easier to treat. "Welp, you're not hideous." He smirked wryly, putting on breeches and a tunic and heading out to the dinner table.

"Took you long enough boy." Gurant growled, staring at the stew and bread. "I thought I'd die of old age before you finished."

"Ha-ha." Faris replied dryly…

"Why are you coming with me!" Venka hissed hotly.

Seya, the target of her ire, merely smiled, "I overheard your conversation, it has to do with Faris, so I'm tagging along, else." She giggled, "Everyone will be interested in finding out he's still in town, and maybe they'll react… negatively, to the fact he's now part of the same faction that led to his arrest."

"How do you know all that!" Venka hissed.

"Don't you remember? I have better sight, smell, touch, and hearing, compared to you and other humans at least, picking out your shrill voice amongst a crowd is extremely easy, and both those dwarves have relatively booming voices." Seya shrugged, "Besides, with everything that happened? Would Faris really leave? He's not the type to abandon something, this entire incident occurred because he couldn't leave the matter in the slums alone, so, he's probably still in the city."

"Just because I'm going there, it doesn't mean Faris will be there." Venka said.

"I know, but at the least, I want to know what my favorite red-head is getting up to." Seya smirked at Venka's narrowing eyes. "Don't worry Venka, you may not be my favorite red-head, but, hmmm… you're at least in the top 20, though, I think I only know 7 or 8 red-heads."

"Shut up," Venka muttered, turning to head to the Vroengaurd Inn. Seya smirked, sauntering behind her.

That was how the meeting regarding the growing tension between the dwarves and urgals was started with 5 members instead of 4. Mantle Darmdûnost of the Vrenshrrgn made sense, he was the leader of the representatives of the dwarven clan in question that the issues cropped up from. Vulcan was a rider, and thus had a social and political responsibility to assist in peace talks between the two races. Gork wasn't the highest ranking Urgal representing the Catch-Tooth tribe, but he was the son of one of the head dams in the tribe, he also was friends with Zhodar, and Zhodar had influence on the other urgals in their tribe. The two additions of Venka and Seya would have raised eyebrows, though, Vulcan had a positive impression of the two, that in turn meant that Mantle could at least not have to worry. Gork however had been the one the two girls got along with the most, as he had a few stories of Faris's past in the village, which they then traded for with tales of Faris's actions and activities in the city. They stopped quickly however, when a familiar Mage Investigator entered the room, their incredulous looks mirroring his.

"You!" Venka shouted.

The investigator looked Venka, then Seya with surprise then distaste, sighing, he turned to Vulcan. "Are they a part of your investigation now?"

"I felt it best to have eyes and ears I can trust that won't raise to many eyebrows when asking questions and listening in." Vulcan answered dryly.

The investigator smirked, "Won't raise too many eyebrows, well," He looked at Venka, "Yes, it wouldn't surprise anyone if she started being nosy."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Venka snapped.

"It means you're as subtle as a Beor on fire in the middle of a prayer gathering." Seya smirked, "But don't worry sir, I know what questions to ask, and I have my sources."

"I'm sure you do…"

"Bah, stop speaking in circles, you requested to speak to us to share information you learned today." Mantle growled, "Regardless of their age these children are mages, are they not? That requires some level of discipline, if Vulcan has some faith in them, then I'll reserve judgement until they prove unfaithful."

The interrogator looked at Mantle for a moment then sighed. "You all have no air for procedure, very well then, the children, can listen in. He took out a crystal and held it against the wall, as he began chanting in the ancient language an image appeared on the wall.

"This is…" Mantle began, "This is Braxen's room, why are you showing this to me?"

"Yes, Braxen, the traitor, we have reason to believe he wasn't killed by Urgals."

"Yes, that was the assumption." Vulcan began. Mantle begrudgingly nodded.

"Those beardless bast- errgh, those Urgals, they and we Dwarves may have many differences, but the ones here were alright, while I can't say I can trust every Urgal, from what I've gathered, Urgals wouldn't hire a group to do their dirty work, the only group with any reason to kill Braxen would be the ones in the same lodging as mine Dûrgrimst Vrenshrrgn." He closed his eyes, "My brethren in mine clan share this opinion, our clan was with the Ingeitum clan in the front lines after all, my father one of king Hrothgar's retainers." He sighed, "The other clans don't share that opinion, and they call for blood, if they get too riled up, my clan leader may order us to not participate in the games as a form of protest."

The interrogator patiently waited for Mantle to finish, "That is a result we don't wish to occur, and I understand and empathize with your clan's pain of losing two noble members." He turned to the picture generated, "As you can see, this is Braxen's room." He spoke in the ancient language and the image changed, though it was of the same room, though at a different time of day."

"Is there a point to these images?" Seya asked, slightly irritated, "Seeing as you haven't yet explained the differences, of which the only I can tell is the slightly cracked window, the unmade bed, flecks of blood here and there, and missing statuette."

"…. Astute eyes." The interrogator stated, he continued however, unperturbed by her rude words. "The statuette is what we consider to be important." The next images was the recreation of someone's first person view, they entered the room, looked at the bed, saw the statuette and picked it up, they put it down and turned quickly, seeing 2 human sized individuals break into the room. The person with the first-person view ran into a closet and hid there, then after about a minute, charged out and began attacking with a clothes hangar. Venka and Nya began to pay great attention when an owl burst into the room from the open window and attacked the two would-be assassins or thieves.

Venka turned to the interrogator, "If you put Faris in danger so help me."

"Please…" The interrogator interjected dismissively, "These were memories the boy gave us willingly, the second image of the room without the statue is one we took, while the first image and the sequence of events you see was sampled from Faris's memories, we normally don't rely on such things but he has quite good memory, even the dimensions of the room were taken in accurately despite it being improbable for him to have actively taken that into consideration when he first entered.

"Really? Wouldn't it be easy to view memories?" Seya began.

"It is, but let me ask you, did you pay attention to how many leaves were on the third tree to the left on your second birthday when you were playing out in the fields?"

"That's a stupid question."

"Well then, let me as you," His hand was behind his back, "Which finger had a ring on?"

"What? That's stupid," Seya glared, "It was the ring finger obviously, you just got married."

The interrogator took out his hand to show he had no ring on, then spoke in the ancient language, "I forgot my ring at home, and am prepared to be yelled at by my wife", he then spoke in the common tongue, "while you may remember me with a ring on getting married, you didn't pay attention to me having a ring." He beckoned Seya forward._ "Manim"_(memory).

The image was replaced with an image of himself, though the colors were very much muted, with the browns of his eyes and his pale skin saturated past what was considered normal, his head was also missing more hair, as if his balding had increased by several steps, and he sported a comically larger than normal frown, with lines down his face as if he had been sternly giving lectures for the past 10 years.

"Even things we just saw are effected by our memories and emotions, if you notice." He pointed to his hand, he bore a ring on his left in the image, but not at the moment. "She assumed, since I'd just been married, and since I have a meticulous personality."

"Anal retentive personality" Seya muttered in retort.

The interrogator continued, "That I wouldn't forget that, she paid attention to my clothing, but missed that I had 5 buttons on my left arm, she only really noticed three on my right and assumed it matched, the location isn't entirely accurate either, people have been known to change their memory, on accident, or on purpose, even without magical tampering, while spells can be cast to pierce through the illusions to discern what is actually the truth, we didn't need those spells to examine Faris's memories of the incident."

"Eragon had said he had once needed to observe the memories of someone to find any tampering, he needed to cast a spell to discern the truth from miniature delusions created by the brain to fill up blank space." Vulcan offered.

"Yes, and even then, those memories aren't 100% accurate, as they need to be pieced together due to how our minds store our memories." The interrogator continued, "I conducted a number of tests on Faris. Non-invasive tests." He glared at the two girls, "You two are simply incorrigible, Faris is not the first nor will he be the last person who was falsely convicted, that is a fault in the system created by human infallibility, and I'm not so arrogant as to think I'm perfect, it is why what we are doing is important. I do not want an entire race to be condemned when the evidence is starting to point to some form of set up of some kind!"

"You two, I allowed you here in confidence, regardless of your issue with Interrogator Mathias do you mean to betray that trust?" Vulcan asked, frowning.

Seya simply looked away but Venka looked down in embarrassment after mumbling a few apologies.

"I don't understand, what is the issue that happened?" Gork inquired, after a few moments and some explanation from Vulcan it was Gork's turn to look at the Interrogator with some distaste. "Humph, if Faris was an Urgal and he had done those acts, he would have been considered an honorable and strong shaman carrying Rahna's will."

"While he would certainly have been punished for carrying out extrajudicial actions, it would have been light in comparison to his supposed wrong-doing." Mantle said, "My clan would have likely sent him to the stone forest to cool his head for 30 years, but not before hosting a feast in his honor and to curse the beardless bastards who'd harm the children of their own kin."

An awkward silence filled the air, "…These differences in culture lead to the importance of sharing of ideas and values, something brought about by the Great Games." The interrogator sighed, "If I can get back to topic, we conducted tests to ensure that Faris's memory was indeed perfectly accurate, we have great confidence that the statue and the symbol on it were not a figment of his imagination." The image projected changed to the statue, of a lovely dwarven woman with a necklace with a symbol that looked like an eye with a tear drop shaped pupil. "Do either of you recognize this symbol, Mantle, Vulcan?"

Vulcan shook his head, "I wish I did, but unfortunately I have not seen the symbol before, I noticed the statue, Braxen took great care in crafting it and had announced that he would be done by month's end, I don't recognize the woman he crafted, though she is almost as lovely as Íor-"

"Best not finish that sentence, I'd rather you not bandy the name of our Chief so loosely." Mantle interrupted, he glared at the group, then continued, "We don't recognize that woman from our clan, or from clan Feldûnost, who often work with our clan, as we help them with their herds from time to time and they send us meat during seasons of little hunting." He paused, then continued, "Though I do admit the woman is quite pretty, she has no gemstone jewelry however, which is odd considering Braxen's age, unless he'd fallen for an older woman."

"We can then either assume this carving is either a fantasy crafted from Braxen's imagination or-"

The interrogator was interrupted by Mantle, "Braxen wasn't that skilled yet, he was awful at making something from nothing, he always needed a reference, in fact the face, necklace, and clothes had been mostly finished before we left, he modeled the hair after one of our clan women coming to compete, as she had similar hair to the dwarf he was carving."

"Where is that dwarf now?" Gork asked.

"Likely with the rest of my clan, trying to calm down the other clans, by now mine and Vulcan's disappearance may be causing some issues, was that all you wanted to share? If it is about the assailants, I can't tell humans apart with only a picture of their eyes, and both their pupils are brown, 8 out of ten of you humans have brown eyes and light skin."

The interrogator nodded, "I assumed the assassins wouldn't be fully recognizable, but the swords and daggers at their side are of Surdan make, they also…" He spoke more words in the ancient language, returning to the image of the assassins, one who's knife was dangerously close to Faris's face from the first-person view's perspective, on the knife some words were scrawled. "This is the script used by the desert tribes, and is a trademark for a specialty store in the city, "a lesser interrogator would immediately believe the store and its owners and or workers were collaborating, and while I've not ruled that out, I'm more concerned with the purchases within the last two months and observing who made them, replica swords and knives are sold by the store, and the insignias bear a certain code of numbers behind the logo that represent a number in the store's system, it allows the workers to track purchases to some extent."

Mantle whistles in appreciation, "That's quite a nifty trick actually, who came up with that idea?"

"A young half Surdan boy in between running errands in the Slums between a woman just recovering from Murk and the widow of a former child smuggler, this was of course, before his arrest, as he wasn't an employee and didn't purchase any items, the store was investigated, most stores in the city adopted this method however, though none as well as the first."

"So, you want us to investigate the store?" Venka asked.

"No, I want you to stay as far from it as possible unless you have to, rather, myself and some others will investigate the store and compare log numbers to the numbers on the daggers, we can then identify when the purchase was made, and if by a citizen, we would have a name with a face and registration, if it wasn't made by a citizen, we would have the individual's description to screen amongst the refugees, travelers, and guests of the city, we can then interview the guards to compare the description to those they encountered, whilst it is hard to pick a face amongst thousands, a few spells can assist them in identifying the traits we lay out." The interrogator continues again, "That was all I wanted to say, we have some leads, and at the moment we assume the assassins are connected to the robbery of the statue, as the rest of the room was left untouched, a few other signs a trace amount of footsteps let us know that the assassins entered from a different room when coming to kill the prisoner and his two guards, afterwards they entered the room with the statuette and took it, leaving the rest of the room untouched, given the way they killed the three, they had at least one skilled mage, but the rest were unfamiliar with coordinated stealth operations other than the hiding of signs of entry and quieting their movements." The interrogator gave a short bow and left.

"What should we do?" Mantle turned to Vulcan, "I heard mostly maybes and a statue, I will transcribe the symbol and show it to mine clansmen and the others, they may recognize it."

"I can inquire of it to the elves and to Eragon, the Eldunarí may have an answer." Vulcan replied.

"The Urgals and Kull in my clan are becoming impatient, I will explain to them that we must wait some more, I will seek aid from Nar Garzhvog, he has sway with all the clans and can calm them, but it is still uncertain, the insults thrown my people's way by dwarves has never been taken peaceably before, and its hard for my people to swallow their pride any longer."

"I have a few connections; I can inquire about the shop the Interrogator asked about." Seya began.

"And Bartholomew's Uncle is the head of the Commerce Guild, he likely has info on the financial situation of that shop." Venka continued, "We'll get to the bottom of this."

Mantle raised an eyebrow at Seya and Venka, "You have some connections you say, well, you are the humans of this city, so I'll put some faith in you, may you be as resolute as the stone beneath us." No one pointed out the hard wood floor they sat on.

…

As Interrogator Mathias left the Inn his aide approached him from the front door.

"Sir, I take it the meeting went well?"

"As well as I could hope, this is unfortunately one of those cases where we can't just rely on magic…" Mathias looked at his aide, who'd been working for him for a little over three years, the Inspector and Investigator rolls Mathias had were relatively new in Alagaesia, of its several thousand year history, his roll had existed for only 15 years, but he'd been the best at his job, Faris was the first real blunder on his part, he had expected, no, had trusted Rembrant to place Faris in a holding cell of some sort, and due to his preconceptions of the situation hadn't bothered to keep close tabs on the boy's situation, even after taking to account the injuries he had received recently. Because of that, Rembrant had almost gotten away with hiding the fact he was aiding a terrorist organization, smuggling children of the poor outside the city, and preparing a path for invaders to enter the city and destroy the crystal in its core that provided energy to the thousands in this city and insured its protection from conventional siege weaponry. To make matters worse, Faris had been experimented on, the results of which left him physically weaker and bereft of magic, it was a famous blunder, so famous Mathias wasn't allowed to travel without at least one aide, for fear that a drunken, over-zealous supporter of Faris's extra-judicial actions or the widow or orphan of a soldier killed as a result of the invasion would attack him in anger or spite. That was why he was trying to be careful with this case, the obvious clues led to it being Urgals, the guards had been killed gruesomely, their bodies mutilated, burned, then riddled with Kull arrows, the arrows were even etched with sacred religious carvings used by the Urgals to curse the corpses of enemies they considered cowardly in battle.

"It seemed almost too obvious with the clues we found without even using magic, but the fact we don't know what the assailants look like even with magic is… disconcerting." The aide admitted.

"And the memory from Faris reveals even more suspicious signs, daggers of Surdan origin, specifically, of the style of the desert tribes, yet the little of skin revealed showed light skinned individuals within those robes, and the daggers bore the trademark of a shop in this city." Mathias sighed, "Not to mention the statue, which now needs to be taken into account, it may mean something."

"Sir, while I understand that mistakes were made regarding the case with the smugglers, you don't need to hold Faris's thoughts in that high a regard, he seems clever enough, but is but a boy."

"That's the issue though, he's too knowledgeable to just be a 'boy'," The investigator began, "He apparently knows both the dwarven and urgal languages fluently, while also being proficient in the ancient language, he's a decent combatant, and from what I learned looking into him, he scored the highest in the written and oral exams given to knight apprentices, with comparable scoring in the mage apprentice school. He's too… competent, he's supposedly about 10 or 11, and had gone through a traumatic experience, yet is still put together? He's either insane or possessed."

"Is that what logic leads you to believe?" The aide asked quizzically, "We haven't been able to detect ghosts with magic, so even if he was say possessed, we wouldn't be able to tell."

"It's not the spirits of the dead I'm talking about."

"…Then, do you mean sh-" The aide stopped as the investigator put a finger to his lips.

"We don't know who may be listening, that word is something they cast spells to look out for, the second we say it, if a surveillance device is available, they'll detect it."

"But those can't be placed in areas without civilian forewarning!" The aide retorted.

"This isn't a civilian space, the inns are considered international ground, an embassy, if you would, due to this extrajudicial nature…" The investigator shook his head, "Besides what I'm implying is dangerous if put in the wrong ears. I'm not certain the boy even is what I'm implying, but I want to keep an eye on that boy anyway. I'll allow him and his knight squad access to the investigation. Make sure to give them glowing recommendations, I don't want him suspecting me?"

"What of the dwarves and urgal you met?"

"They will be informed as well, but I cannot tell them everything, I especially don't want those two children to listen in and interfere with some immature foolishness." Mathias said.

"You are talking about…"

"Jaya's daughter and the Red-Haired monster, who else? Those two seem infatuated with the boy and despise the investigation team, myself especially, I could hardly get an idea out without them at my throats."

"They could still prove helpful sir, they are prodigies. They may discover a reason behind the room's state." The aide added helpfully. "More minds, even immature minds, may prove helpful, and given their history, they've experienced worse than a murder scene."

"Please, if the council members I asked didn't know, would their disciples know? And if I asked, I'd have to reveal how the spell to detect traces of magic works, it's not common knowledge, and utilizes some words in the ancient language only those in the investigation team are privy to."

"You didn't tell them about the lack of magic? How did you explain Faris's state?"

The investigator rolled his eyes, "That is something he would speak to them about himself, besides, that should be knowledge they'd already know, would it not be?" He walked towards the transport station, "As it is, we must get some sleep, we have a long day of investigating tomorrow, luckily most of the shops will be closed during the games." The bells began ringing signaling that the train would arrive in a few minutes.

…

Faris made sure everyone was asleep before stepping out, he bid Ventus a goodbye, watching the owl flap into the night, on the hunt for any mice and rats that caught his eye, and if he had no luck in his regular haunts, he'd fly as far as the immediate forest around the capital.

He took out a satchel full of smoked and salted meat and deboned fish, along with that he took out a carton of milk, pouring it into a saucer and placing it in the base of the stairs, he then sat at the top, watching and waiting for an hour. After this bit of time, he announced, "Look, I know you're here, hiding under that crate, I gave up last time but you ate the food, I'm not leaving tonight Minnie." Eventually, 3 normal sized cats approached the base of the stairs, their large eyes reflected the moonlight, they regarded Faris, crouched low and ready to run at the slightest movement. Faris simply looked at them before speaking, _"Eka weohnata mïnen ono néiat"_ (I will harm you not). The two other cats streamed from the dark, joining the first three in eating the meat and drinking the milk, after a half minute they turned and began meowing into the dark, eventually, a werecat covered in dust and dirt padded out of the dark. Faris smiled lightly as he looked towards Minnie.

_"Last meal was too salty; you need more milk."_ She mentally sent his way, flickering a few glances at him before eating ravenously.

Any other race than werecat would have received a smart retort, such as 'beggars can't be choosers now can they?' but Faris, intimately familiar with the quirks and flippant attitude of a werecat like Solembum, who bore traits that both Angela and Elva stressed were genetically ingrained into the entire species, simply shrugged and watched as she ate in silence. After she and the 5 cats with her ate their fill the cats began to lie down next to each other.

"So, I have a proposition, some questions, and a few requests." Faris began.

_"And what would you have of me, child of men?"_ She replied, eying him in a curious light.

"Well, first of all, I have a name, it's Faris, if it's alright with you, refer to me as such."

_"That would be difficult, it would be easier to describe you by your features, ugly manling."_

"Ah, in that case I probably shouldn't prepare smoked pork and stir the cream and add sugar like I have been adding."

_"That seems like a hasty mistake Faris!"_ Minnie stared at him in alarm actually rushing up a few steps.

Hiding his mirth, Faris continued, "My next request is to have as many stray cats as you can hunt for rats, I wasn't paying too much attention before, but the rat population in this city is reaching catastrophic levels, there are probably 1,000 rats for every person, and because of the production levels, waste generated and food thrown away is at a level comparable to…" He refrained from continuing the thread on comparing Ilirea to the city he lived on back on Earth. "Anyways, right now the cat population is small, and they won't make too much of a real difference, but if possible, have the stray cats concentrate on the slums, have them avoid injuring children or the elderly, and if possible, have them try to be in areas that discourage rats from congregating and making more nests past what they already have."

_"Do you have some form of hatred for rats? No matter, they are not the most delicious meals, but I can manage to lead the lesser ones."_

"Thanks, I'll make sure to leave a choice cut of meat and some milk for you every night."

_"Every other night, I do not want to grow fat like my sire's sire. He had been so large my mother had forced him to eat insects for a year so that he could regain his shape."_ Faris laughed at that, which was matched by a light purr emanating from Minnie's throat._ "Though, Faris, why do you want to exterminate the rats?"_

"I don't hate them generally, and I'd rather leave them alone unless I was pressed for food, rats are generally intelligent, actually, you might often observe them to be a bit cleverer than even cats, err… your lesser ones, not you of course." He smiled apologetically at Minnie, who had begun to raise her hackles in irritation. "Anyways, this isn't some method of pure extermination, rats are just really good at breeding, the stray cats seem to normally scrounge for scraps as opposed to hunting for rats. Rats are able to get into many places, and because their teeth will keep growing, they have to continually bite and chew, they can even chew through weak metal given enough time, say an infected rat returns to its nest, spreads its infection to other rats, and one day, a woman while cleaning houses is bit in the finger by a rat when she reached for something. She won't notice at first, but she's just been infected by Murk, a disease that will affect humans, but not so much animals insensitive to magic like a rat."

_"So, you want me to command the lesser to actively hunt down rats, no, focus on them and keep their population in check, well, given what you say, if they are truly that numerous, then concentrating the lesser in the areas were the vermin are highest in number will prove useful to them, and I could probably wrest them away from the others."_

"Others?" Faris asked. It was then that he learned that there were actually a few dozen werecats in the city, and their goal was to control the highest population of 'lessers', or cats, within 5 years. Cats would obey werecats almost unconditionally, but different werecats could carry a different "charisma" about them, and the feelings of the cats would have to be taken into account, it was actually quite possible for a werecats who was outright cruel to the normal cats to be rejected by that group of cats, who would react with hostility or avoidance. Apparently, the current "king" of the werecats, Grimmr Halfpaw, was considering leaving his honorary title. Werecats seldom gathered, and the title of king or queen was but an honorary position that held little sway. The aftermath of the war had changed that though, human and dwarven society relied on hierarchy to thrive, and even the urgals and elves gave deference to those they considered leaders, the elves had queens and noble houses in and the Urgals had their chieftains and dams. Werecats weren't ones to change their society, but they tended to adapt to the changes around them, and there was a certain appeal to the development of society. Thus it was decided that the werecats would hold a contest, any werecat could compete, and the winner would become the next king or queen until they died or saw fit to abdicate the throne like Halfpaw had done.

_"I have the least amount of cats at the moment, only a few dozen, but I am still in the running, I had survived the first wave of purging, but I had been tricked."_ She raised her hackles as she thought about her situation, _"A group had been formed, we would combine our forces to defeat stronger werecats by combining our numbers, but I was betrayed and left in that trap you found, I had barely been able to scrounge the few lessers who would stay with me even now, I need at least one to remain in this contest."_

"You say defeat…." Faris began, "how…"

_"We will fight with tooth and nail, we try to not to kill each other, simply to get the other to yield, if a werecat admits defeat to another, the submitting werecat is marked by the other's scent as a symbol of their loss. Thus saying to the others of our kind that they are now belonging to the victor of their conflict. The werecats with higher cunning, charisma, and age often control more cats, so even if they are no longer in the prime of their lives they can slow us down with the lessers, the lessers are hesitant to fight us, but we are competing to control as many as possible, so we cannot harm those who may follow us."_

"So you're like gangsters and this is a turf war." Faris said pointedly.

_"I do not know those concepts, but is sounds like you are insulting me."_

"I would never!" Faris said with fake astonishment.

_"Do not mock me pup! I have lived over 100 moons!"_

"I'm not sure what age werecats need to reach to be adults, but that makes you 8 in human years, so it's not that impressive to me, I'm 11, and in terms of cooking and extracting-people-and-cats-from-traps-ing, I think I surpass you." He smiled as she narrowed her eyes. "But anyways, do we have a deal, you'll have your boys hunt the rats in the slums, I'll help you think up ways to gather more cats under you, and I'll provide meat and milk every other day, barring any accidents."

_"I'll be in your care then."_ She sniffed him, _"Hmmm… you've met a werecat before."_

"I'm surprised if you could tell, it has been a while since I've spent extended periods of time with him. At the least he is known as Solembum to me."

Minnie purred for quite a while after that, though when Faris pressed her for answers she would not give any.


	12. Chapter 12

"Are you sure we should be investigating this shop? Seems like a wild goose chase." John muttered dryly.

"It's because it seems so farfetched that it should be investigated." Cynthia answered, "We have very little to go off of, but at the very least, we must assume that the Urgals aren't guilty, meaning."

"Meaning it was the dwarves!" John shouted.

"Shut up you idiot!" She hissed. A few people stared in their direction as they walked through one of the smaller shopping districts outside the eastern slums. The extra attention caused Manny to smile uncomfortably and Vern to put a hand to his forehead as he massaged his temple.

"What Cynthia means, John." Manny began with some care, "Is that we must assume either the arrows were stolen or they were replicas. There were no signs of who fired those arrows, normally a bit of sweat, oils from hands, or even dirt would be on, but it seems that whoever fired them either used magic or was wearing an extremely sterile glove of some kind. The other orc arrows they allowed us to look at all had signs of use, residue of food, oil, dirt, mud, they were the arrows of a warrior who'd used them a lot, it's kind of a stretch to assume that an urgal had been taking care of an entire quiver of arrows, cleaning them meticulously like that, yet wasting them all on the corpses of the dead, who had been killed for at least a few minutes before the first arrow even pierced their skin."

"Exactly, meaning these were well-designed replicas, probably made to look just like the real thing, and so why are we going to the shops?" She turned to John expectantly.

"Oh… I get it, so the dwarves bought replica arrows from one of the novelty shops and stole an equal number of arrows from the urgals."

"We don't know who bought the replica arrows John." Cynthia snapped, "So let's not make stupid assumptions."

Cynthia was in somewhat of a sour mood, the information gathered by Manny had been extremely important in further proving that the urgals hadn't been behind the attack, but if not for Faris's earlier assertions and the submission of his memories, their proof may not have been taken into much consideration other than at the thought of a more meticulous than normal Urgal. Faris actually provided general builds of possible suspects, some semblance of a motive, and the search of a missing item, a symbol of some importance that scholars would look into, and a lead to look into a store that sold Surdan made items. To make matters worse, the Investigator's aide had congratulated them as a team, conflating Faris's achievements with her own. This was of course good for them, Cynthia's team's status would rise as a result and they would be closer to becoming full fledged knights of the kingdom, but after her words and actions to Faris the day before, if he made any allusions to investigating separately from the team, they, and especially her, who had ordered him to keep from being associated with the team, would be embarrassed on a political and social level.

"It's to the point where it would have been better if he had just claimed the achievements on his own, it's not even like they were born from pure deductive reasoning, he's got his 'perfect memory', so that in itself is an unfair advantage," Cynthia had taken the aide's words and compliments with as gracious a smile as possible, and, whilst ignoring the looks of envy from their rival teams, she led her squad to scour the city for every shop, merchant gathering, and peddler who sold urgal related wares. Unfortunately the arrows didn't bare a trademark or code of purchase, but it would be insane to assume that arrows, which were normally sold in bundles as consumable goods, would have the same logo and code on each and every one, they were inscribed through magic or conventional means, but doing so was relatively time consuming and expensive, as if the shop owner wasn't a magic user themselves, they'd have to hire someone to do the engraving for them. Not every store had implemented a code of purchase, it was mostly to help them keep stock of inventory and make catalogues of what items ended up stolen or damaged, both extremely helpful tools when it came to determining whether the workers, they hired were earning their keep.

The little shop near an alley way they were about to enter was called _The Humble Goat,_ this was likely on account of urgals' horns and eyes, somewhat resembling those of goats. As they entered the shop they were greeted by a bubbly blonde girl with a sizeable bust and freckles over her nose and cheeks, her bright blue eyes lit up as she saw them enter the store. "Welcome to The Humble Goat! Home of imitation urgal items, you won't be able to tell the difference! Could I interest you in our authentic urgal horn sharpeners? How about the authentic urgal combat guide, all about how one can gain the muscles of an urgal in a few days!" One would question the veracity of the claims made by the girl, but she was hired for her cute face and infectiously positive attitude, otherwise, people would seldom remain in such a niche shop or become frequent purchasers.

Cynthia was all business as she walked up to the girl, "I need a list of everyone who's purchased arrows from this shop as far back as one month." She demanded; eyes cold.

The shopgirl stepped back in shock, Manny, quickly stepping in front of Cynthia, interrupted, "I apologize!" He said hastily, "M'lady here was the victim of a rather cruel prank by some youths, so she's been looking for the shop that sold them the arrows, she's not looking to punish anyone who sold it, she'd just really like to know where those kids bought the arrows from."

The shopkeep girl trembled, but smiled politely, "I'm sorry, I don't think any kids have come here to purchase arrows and just arrows, none for bows either. Two weeks ago a couple of people came in to purchase arrows, but it was along with a few more items, like the guide I was telling you about!" She trembled in fear.

"Oh? What did they look like!" Cynthia demanded imperiously, due to her stature, countenance, and clothing, she did very much resemble a minor noble's daughter, with Manny, John, and Vern being her retainers/ young guards.

"Umm, all of them had black hair and brown eyes, one of them had a scar over his chin, but I don't think they were purchasing it for children."

"I see…" Cynthia turned around, hiding her grin. "Evidently not!" She turned back to the girl. "Very well! I will take your words at face value! Carry on then men!" She marched outside, Manny dropped a couple coins on the counter.

"Sorry about that miss, m'lady can be a tad bit… overzealous." He turned, leaving last. The shopkeep sighed in relief, and nearly had a heart attack when her manager opened the side room, asking what the fuss had been about.

Outside, and out of earshot of anyone else, Cynthia smirked in triumph. "Finally! I knew we'd find something!"

"We just have a few descriptions, a scar on the chin is noticeable, but it's not completely unique." Manny began cautiously.

"But this was the only shop that had sold any arrows, and their arrows didn't carry a trademark!" Cynthia replied.

"And, so? What does that mean, we know someone purchased arrows last week, so it was premeditated, but we already assumed that, we aren't closer to who actually committed the murder."

"It's not just about the murder." Cynthia argued, "As long as we have some evidence, we can divert the dwarven anger from the urgals to the mysterious assailants."

"Yeah, then we just need to wait one week for stories of men with black hair being mysteriously struck from behind with hammers." John muttered.

"Bah! I don't have time for your negativity, we have an hour before the first race, so after we submit our info let's get ready."

"Yes ma'am!" They saluted.

…

"What do you mean he can't investigate that shop!" Venka shouted in anger.

"It's exactly what I mean." Bartholomew held up his hands in defense. "My uncle can't investigate the shop, it belongs to Farooq Nasir, while we can make a formal request, the shop isn't registered with the commerce guild, and is counted as one of Lord Farooq's discretionary expenditures." Bartholomew looked to the corner of the room as he began reciting barely intelligible bylaws, acts, accordances, trade deals, traditions, customs, and rules ad nauseum, causing Venka to hold up her hand in defeat.

"Okay, okay! Fine, so we can't forcefully ask for those records, at least not quickly, how long would it take for those records to be handed over?"

"Probably a week."

"We don't have a week." Venka muttered, marching out.

"Uh…" Bartholomew began uncomfortably.

"What are you doing?!" Morgan shouted, getting up, "Let's go get her before she does something stupid."

"Stupid?!" Bartholomew began, but he trailed after Morgan.

"Yes, stupid, you remember that look she gave us when she told us about the daggers that someone tried to kill Faris with, and that they were replicas made from a store. If we don't stop her, she might shake down the poor shopkeeper for info."

"That would be… unfortunate."

They ran after Venka, passing by Cynthia and her group of knight apprentices. They cleared as wide a margin as possible, trying to avoid even the slightest provocation. As they chased after Venka's bright red hair and blue cloak they spied three figures just leaving the shop they were after. The shop known as _Desert's Midnight_. Venka stopped too, narrowing her eyes at the lead figure, a girl with black hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Oh! Hey! It's my 21st favorite red-head!" Seya called out sarcastically, giving Venka a smirk, eying Morgan and Bartholomew she laughed. "So, these were your sources?"

Venka retorted, "Yeah, well it looks like you asked Katya and Nya too, what, was your dad not smart enough?"

"Can we not get into this right now…" Bartholomew gasped, short of breath, "Please… my heart can't take this running around and shouting anymore."

"I thought you've lost some weight Bart." Nya jokingly teased, "You look like you've shed at least an arm and a leg's worth of fat off of you."

"Nya," Katya admonished, "Even then, Bart's only moved from life-threateningly overweight to severely overweight."

"Guys, it's not make-fun-of-Bartholomew day, focus, Venka, Seya, you asked us to look around and gather some info, it was only yesterday night you discovered all of this info, so we are doing our best, we only have another hour or so before the games begin, so we'll barely make it as is, Seya, you just left the shop, did you learn anything?"

"Yup," She smiled widely, "We're on the lookout for a foreigner to the city, they didn't have citizen papers, so they were either from Surda, or from one of the many small outcropping villages, where papers and parchments wouldn't be a commodity in. They were tall, had dark hair, brown eyes, and a scar over the chin."

"Black hair, brown eyes, scar over chin, got it!" Venka ran towards the direction of the Games Pavilion.

"She could have at least said thank you." Seya said, but she was still smiling. "Anyways, that's not all the info I got, apparently they had come in with Urgal style arrows too."

"So… they are out main culprit?" Morgan asked.

"Well, maybe, but we'll need the shopkeeper to testify and submit his memories." Seya said.

"Luckily I've very persuasive." Katya smiled while batting her eyelids.

"She means she identified 15 different diseases and conditions he had and promised that they would lead to a very, very painful death in the next 5 years if she or another Protector of Life Mage didn't do extensive work on him, in exchange for a promissory note of that nature, he'd help us."

An awkward silence came down between them.

Meanwhile, Venka, who ran with an excited air about her crashed into a robbed man from behind. As she fell, she saw the elderly man fall to his knees.

"Oh my goodness!" She shouted remourcefully, "I'm so sorry sir! Are you alright?"

The robbed man raised a hand, waving her back, he got up slowly, twisting and turning with some discomfort. "That's what I receive for leaving on my own it seems," he mused gently.

Venka froze, backing up as she recognized the voice, the elderly man turned to reveal Farooq Nasir, second in rank in the 5th of the mage guilds, the Guides of The Astral.

"Oh? Did I accidentally hurt you more than you hurt me?" Farooq mused? Venka shook her head.

"No, I was just busy, if you'd excuse me, I'd like to-"

"Wait!" Farooq stopped her, "before you go, if you are alright with it, I'd like to set up a meeting with you."

"A meeting?" Venka asked suspiciously.

"Yes, a meeting, I know you have not taken a formal apprenticeship, and whilst you have been approached by the Council Members without disciples and a few teachers, you've refused to accept their apprenticeship."

"Yeah, that's a trend I'd like to continue." She replied, narrowing her eyes, Farooq Nasir was the least Vocal member of the Council, and he was quite reserved, the only thing she really knew was that he was Jaya's friend and the acting second in command when Jaya was the head of the council, two things that made her dislike him.

"That is fair, the school has made many mistakes in its treatment of you and Faris, mistakes that make me wish to reevaluate the treatment of students as a whole." He admitted with a placating smile, "My offer of discipleship still applies, you can visit me at any time."

Venka nodded, turning to head towards the Great Games Pavilion. She was upset to find that her teammates had arrived first.

"What!?" She shouted incredulously, "but I had a head start!" She hadn't seen them get ahead while she had been speaking to Farooq, and she had taken the most direct route.

"We took the train." Bartholomew said.

…

Faris side hopped quickly, barely dodging Bergan's sharp fist. He moved his hands, expecting the feint and blocking the real attack, a kick aimed at his sides, instead of blocking the blow, he moved with it to reduce its impact, getting a bit of space between him and the mage. Bergan gave chase, not letting up in his onslaught, Faris dodged left, then right, then ducked under a haymaker, sweeping Bergan's left leg. As the mage stumbled backwards to regain his footing Faris threw himself forward, connecting a flying kick to Bergan's chest, Faris landed heavily, wincing as the weighted cuffs struck the middle of his feat.

"You've gotten faster." Bergan announced, he winced but smiled as he put a hand to his chest. "Though the majority of the damage came from the combined weight." He looked at Faris.

Faris was drenched in sweat dampening the entirety of his shirt in the front and all but a few spaces in the back, his hands and arms and legs from the knees to his toes were bound in thick bandaging to help protect his and Bergan's bodies from the impacts of their blows. The most peculiar thing about his appearance however was the thick and heavy iron cuffs at his wrists and ankles, they were attacked to make Faris heavier, which then would mean he required more force to swing his arms and legs, but in exchange his blows were heavier, heavy enough they could move Bergan slightly. This effectively made Faris's sparring session also a weight training session, as the four pieces were about a third of his weight.

"Faster than when I first came out of the hospital maybe, but not 'faster' in general." Faris replied, "I'm not as fast as when I first fought Yacob."

"You mean with movements enhanced with magic?" Bergan raised an eyebrow.

"No, without those enhanced movements. As I am right now, I'm physically stronger, but that can mostly be accounted for getting older, I'm not as sharp as I used to be, and my joints still ache and creek."

"You sound like an old man." Bergan replied, "But, Faris, how long are you going to wear your hair like that?"

"Like what?"

"With that ridiculous black grease, your hair wasn't that dark before."

"Yes, it wasn't, but it also wasn't red, my red eyes are bad enough, but if my hair was red as well…" He sighed, "Look Bergan, I don't want to argue about this with you too."

"Me too?" He questioned, "Who else?"

"Everyone," Faris shrugged, "My parents, Venka, my friends, Gurant, Yura, Martha, the kids. They all think I should just let my hair appear as it is, that people will eventually get used to the red hair and eyes. Since I've gotten an appreciable tan and my skin's returning to its original tone, they're doubling down on that notion."

"But you fear what people will do or say?"

"I don't fear what they'll do to me Bergan." Faris replied quietly.

After some silence, Bergan replied, "What happened in the hospital, what happened with Dante, it's not your fault."

"What, is my life public knowledge or something?" Faris asked bitterly.

"I see I may have touched a nerve."

"A nerve? That's an understatement." Faris muttered, "Look, you agreed to help me train and regain my fighting sense and physical ability, do we continue with this or do we move on to swords, staves, and other weapons?"

Bergan shook his head, but took out a pair of longswords, tossing one to Faris. He cast the dulling spell on the blades and moved into a prepared stance, holding the blade in front of him in a slight angle. Faris mirrored his movements, then bent one of his knees slightly further.

"Are you sure you want to keep training? Won't you miss the first of the games?"

"I didn't sign up for any of today's venues, I'm in the third long distance race, which is in two days, and the unarmed and armed competitions are tomorrow and the next day respectively."

"You'll run, then fight with swords?" Bergan asked incredulously.

"Yes, that's why I need to really work today, I've built up a better level of stamina, and hopefully, I'll be fast enough, but right now I need to finish my fundamentals."

"Fair," Bergan Briarson began, smiling, "En garde!" He charged forward…


	13. Chapter 13

"Hooo, it seems there are more of them this time." A human woman looked at the sea of bodies below. Thousands upon thousands of men, women, and maybe even children, were clad in black and gold armor. This was the Golden horde, a conglomerate of nations and tribes outside of the Broddring Kingdom. The army comprised of humans, dwarves, and even elves, and seemed to be led by a group of dark-skinned, antlered/horned, elf-like beings. The one leading the day's assault was one of those beings.

"What do the soldiers call them again?" A slightly younger man at her side asked, he was black-haired and dressed in a simple green leather jerkin and wore a chain shirt. A thick brown belt looped his waist, a short sword in its weathered but well-made leather scabbard was slung on his side. The most valuable items on his person being a pair of fine gauntlets with jewels embedded in the knuckles.

"Dark elves, quaint name, don't ya think?" The woman laughed.

The "dark elf" in question screamed out something, and a burst of indigo light erupted from his hands, stopping just short of the walls. Several human mages backed up when that happened, and more took their place, sweating in concentration. Other mages shouted words in the ancient language, flinging spells and curses and enchantments at the enemy. A few of the enemy legion burst into flame, melted, froze, or twisted grotesquely before dying, but most seemed unharmed, and the ones surrounding the dark elf were untouched.

"Well, inhuman beauty, great strength, long pointy ears, and cat-like eyes, and skin that ranges from dark gray to as black as midnight." The younger man sighed, "Other than the antlers and horns, I'd just call them elves with a lot of tanning time."

"Regardless of what they are or who they relate to, they are our enemy, and as much as I would rather sit with them and discuss things amicably…" An elf with silver hair closed his eyes and sighed, opening them again he glared at the horde of soldiers attempting to breach the wall and the smaller but just as fierce horde of soldiers keeping them from overtaking them. "It seems it is out time to attack."

The woman smiled; the young man groaned. "Come on Perevail." He muttered, "We're still keeping the walls, as long as we prevent our men from being killed, we don't need to go into the fight."

"Don't be a coward Marcale." The woman sneered.

"Caution isn't cowardice Maheera." Perevail admonished the woman. "But Marcale, even if we have helped to keep losses to a minimum today, the enemy continues to siege against us, it is our duty to protect these lands, and we set an example, not only to the soldiers below us but to those who come after us." He smiled as a low rumbling growl sounded behind him.

_Youngling, do not worry yourself. Battle is an honorable thing, no?_ The massive dragon was covered in glittering silver-grey scales, resembling steel plate armor more than a living creature's scales. His eyes were an iridescent silver that almost gleamed.

_I try to tell him that Belgabad-vor, but he can be stubborn at times._ A smaller dragon, about twice to thrice the size of a horse, covered with glittering scales of red and gold as if he were adorned with gold and ruby armaments. He had powerful front and hind legs and stood as if he were ready to sprint out into the battlefield in an instant. Marcale glared at him sourly.

"I'm not stubborn, rather you're too battle-ready Johodar." Marcale continued, "I don't want you to get hurt like last time." Johodar snorted and looked to the side.

Maheera began laughing, she was joined by her dragon, a being covered in regal-looking violet scales. "Juliana and I had to save your hide Marcale, but it's your own fault, you were too naïve out there." Marcale's face turned red and he scowled but didn't respond.

After the short coughing chortle, the dragoness licked her scaled paw and in a decidedly feminine voice declared: _I for one look forward to sinking my fangs into that creature's throat and tearing it apart. They have the nerve to attack us?_

_You probably weren't scary enough._ Johodar offered. Juliana growled and snapped in his direction, causing the soldiers accompanying them to flinch and pale. One of the soldiers ran up to the fourth rider and dragon pair, a Kull and a muscular black dragon, almost as large as Belgabad.

"Sir Rhumkard?" The soldier asked cautiously, "Is there anything we can do to alleviate the honored dragons? They seem to be agitated…" The soldier flinched when the Kull gazed at him.

Rhumkard was a tall figure, nearly 10 feet tall and rippling with muscle. He wore thick armor and held a massive battle axe at his side. After a few seconds, he smiled. "Do not worry, this is how they relieve tension."

"O-oh… I see." The soldier bowed and retreated back. The Kull watched him go with a light smile on his face.

_You still strike terror into the human men I see._ The kull turned to his dragon, a massive, muscular, black being with thick horns, claws, and teeth, perfectly able to tear about anything with sheer animalistic might.

"Aye… the humans still fear me, but luckily, the enemy fears me more. The fear of my allies is combined with awe, respect, and hope, with that we can achieve a victory." He pets his scaled friend on the flank. "So Barukagon, my bond, war brother, and battle friend, will you do me the honor of riding into battle with me so that the terror we impose strikes our enemies and shrouds our allies?"

The black dragon Barukagon snorted in amusement. _Always and forever, my friend, we shall overcome this trial._ Rhumkard and Barukagon were the third dragon and rider pair to come to existence in Alagaesia after Eragon's departure. Despite that, they were put in charge of the group in Vulcan's absence.

Rhumkard turned silently to Perevail, his senior both in age and as a rider. The elf gave the Kull a gentle grin. "You are our leader in this expedition, they all look up to you and Barukagon Rhumkard-finiarel." He laughs, "You should have seen the faces of those old codgers when they found out a Kull was to be the third rider after Galbatorix's reign, it was even funnier when you showed them you were versed in elven customs before you even arrived." Paravail patted Rhumkard on the back. "You have an outstanding battle sense, so there are no complaints on my part, just don't stretch yourselves, or us, too thin."

Rhumkard nodded, he, Vulcan, and Perevail had been riders for a while before the next rider, Maheera, had been determined, they became friends through many trials, and were a pillar for the riders to come, as well as for the young riders here now. The kull turned from his armored friend and looked over at Maheera and Marcale. "It is time, prepare your enchantments, tighten your belts, and get ready to let fly blades, bolts, and spells." Without another word, the other two riders hopped unto their dragons, fastened themselves on, and prepared for takeoff. Peravail effortlessly got unto his dragon Belgabad despite his heavy armor.

_Your armor is a good bit heavier than his though._ Barukagon added humorlessly. _Though it hardly makes a difference._ Both Barukagon and Belgabad were fitted in armor made for a dragon, they had had the honor of having it forged by Vulcan. The reason they had the armor while the others didn't was due to a dragon's growth slowing a bit after the first decade of their life, they would eventually need to be fitted with another armor, but that would take at least 2 decades before what they had on now became too tight to move comfortably in.

Ignoring the fleeting thoughts that continued to reverberate around his head Rhumkard began to breathe deeply, stilling his mind and slowing his fast-beating heart. He raised his weapon, a massive two headed war axe, and let out a bellow rivaling his dragon's roar in magnitude and ferocity. "Attack!"

Riders and dragons as one, they connected their minds together, and dived into the battle field.

…

"Bah, you should have told me the time for the commencement ceremony Nasuada, while I can't show my face to the people, I should at least be able to see my representatives." King Orrin muttered tiredly, though he had a bit of humor in his eyes. He sat in a war tent, his shoulders and right arm bandaged by some aides, another aide in white and blue robes chanted in the ancient language, whatever the mage was doing seemed to be working as color began to return to the King of Surda's face. He smirked at the woman through the mirror, she was only half a decade younger than him, yet ruled a kingdom that could conquer his own if she ever found him to be a threat.

"I'm sorry, I did not know when there would be a lull in combat, so I couldn't safely interrupt the war effort, to be honest, I would rather be down there myself." Nasuada replied, her smile mirroring his. Orrin felt like laughing as he looked at her smile, it didn't reach her eyes. "Oh?" Nasuada asked, "It seems like you are smiling truly now."

"I'm simply laughing because I know that had it been almost any other statesman saying they'd rather be in the middle of a battlefield instead of commemorating a sports competition during war time, they'd be lying."

"I will take that as a compliment then."

"I'd hope you would." After a few seconds of silence, Orrin continued, "Nasuada, tell me, how goes the kingdom? I was told that the capital was attacked by remnants of Galbatorix's ugly dealings."

Nasuada sighed, "It went better than we could hope, but we still lost over 100 men, three quarters of our military is in this war, I can't afford to lose the ones I have back at home. We can only be thankful that a soldier had been able to sound the alarm when he did."

Orrin nodded his head. "We should have doubled down on our efforts to find those remnants. I had thought that letting them go would leave bad aftertaste, but it developed into a poison."

"We put in too much time, resources, and men into searching Orrin, and the few we did capture were more trouble than they were worth, even the one who surrendered was assassinated on route to the capital. As it is, the latest problem isn't enemies from the outside, rather, its coming from our own allies."

"Oh?"

"A group of dwarves and urgals had gotten into an altercation, and three dwarves are dead now, the issue is, from what I'm being told it wasn't the urgals who retaliated, but there's enough evidence to implicate a specific tribe, who have otherwise sworn in the ancient language that they had not killed the dwarves in question." Nasuada scowled, "The Vrenshrrgn clan-"

Orrin interrupted Nasuada with a scowl, "Those battle crazy war-wolves? That's not good, their clan leader has a place by Orik's ear, and their warriors are popular to humans, dwarves, and even urgals alike here, do they threaten to pull out of the war?"

Nasuada shakes her head grimly, "Not yet… but if an assailant isn't caught and brought to justice before the Great Games end, they will pull out of the war and treaty. The Dwarven clergymen of the Quan already demand that the dwarves completely isolate themselves from the rest of the races of Alagaesia. This incident is enough fuel to cause a ripple effect through the dwarves. Orik barely kept his throne after allowing Eragon to amend the bond of dragons to include the dwarves, if he ignores the clans' demands for justice much longer, he might be forced off the throne and killed, or worse, have his and his immediate family expunged from their families' records."

"Imagine being disowned by the entirety of the human race." Orrin replied dryly, "This to the dwarves means more than just exile, Orik and his entire family would be exiled from the dwarven race, and any dwarf that meats them would be expected to spit in their direction or even kill them if they were on dwarven lands."

"That is why the assailants must be found." Nasuada was about to continue but she heard earth shattering roars emanating from Orrin's side. "That's our riders correct?"

Orrin smiled lightly, "Yes, it is."

"I see, I must cut this meeting short then, you were still in battle, you didn't have to make time for me." She inclined her head, Orrin returned the favor and watched as the screen faded, replaced with his reflection, lightly smiling, but the light not reaching his eyes. He turned his head to face a scout that had entered his war tent.

"My liege!" The scout kneeled before him. "The riders have gone to face the enemy general, what are your orders?"

"Send out a group of three dozen mage knights, 100 mages, 50 knights, and about 500 heavy infantry men, after the riders have cleared the area for their fight, keep the enemy from getting too close and aiding the antlered bastard." Orrin got up, wincing as the wound at his side flared up.

Maheera viewed the enemy below, at the height they achieved the enemy was as ants beneath them.

_Do we dive in and burn once again?_ Juliana asked with vicious relish in her voice. At Maheera's grim but excited agreement the violet dragon pumped her wings hard soaring higher and higher into the air, after reaching a point in which the air became thin, Juliana folded her wings, diving down at a breakneck pace. They dove past their allies, a blur as she zoomed towards the ground.

"_Herdtha du vindr gath unin aí blädrn."(Harden the air! Gather into a Blade!) _The air solidified before them, flattening into a square plane with a razor-sharp edge. Due to her wording and imagination, Maheera made the blade of solidified 'air' sharp and aerodynamic, and attached it to Juliana's through invisible, intangible, rigid tethers that adjusted the blade's angle for them. The magic blade, parallel to the ground, acted like a sail, catching wind and allowing them to bank to the side or pull up from a deep dive.

Juliana unfolded her wings, and a combined effort of her straining wings and the sail-like blade allowed them to skim over the ground and bisect and decapitate the men below like a reaping scythe. They moved with such speed and momentum that none of the wards were able to stop them. A few soldiers died before the blade even touched them, energy in their wards drained. The wind whipped past their faces, minds melded, the speed almost overwhelming, eventually, they began to slow, at that point, Juliana extended her wings and turned them, rising back into the air rapidly. The few surviving Golden Horde soldiers in her path of carnage in turn screamed out in pain and terror as Belgabad glided over them, his silver flames igniting the stretch of land.

Perevail looked over the battle field with sad eyes, their attack, as massive as it was, was only a fraction of the army that continued to attempt to swarm their walls.

_Your mind is troubled… pity?_ Belgabad landed, massive wings and tails sweeping apart soldiers. A group of troops, wards strong enough to protect them, charged towards the dragon, iron spears with glowing green tips shining ominously.

"_Nagz dwerva!"_ _(Blanket Night)_, the soldiers began to stumble, their eyes covered by a film of blackness. Seconds later arrows began to fly, catching them through the gaps in between their helm and armor. Any soldiers who got past Perevail's armor met his spear and fell, and his massive tower shield blocked the rest.

"_Not pity my bond… sorrow, regardless of which side wins, there will be countless widows, orphans, and bereaved parents."_ Peravail narrowed his eyes as he focused on the dark skinned, antlered being in the distance, the 'dark elf' for his part, glared at Peravail with equal animosity. Peravail had neither been amongst the oldest or strongest of the elves before becoming a rider, and whilst some of his brethren had reacted with shock at the appearance of the antlered beings, they had not yet made clear to him or the other riders as to their significance, but those things hated the elves, and he himself found them distasteful.

_All life is a contest of strength and survival, a wolf fretting over the tears of the rabbit is not more than a wolf that goes hungrier and weaker. Another wolf will simply claim the prize._

"_Calling them rabbits seems… rude."_

_Forgive me, perhaps they are more akin to rabid dogs, given that they do not fear death._ Belgabad batted away swaths of troops, but more continued to attempt to swarm him despite their fallen brethren.

"_These aren't at all like Galbatorix's laughing death, I sense pain and fear in each of them, yet they fight till exhaustion or debilitating pain, and do not surrender, the only ones we've seen retreat are the mages, and…"_ Perevail looked at the 'dark elf' once more. "_If you can, let us push on and threaten their commander. But we will need to clear some space fi-" _Perevail was interrupted by a streak of gold and red followed by soldier's screams. His sharp eyes picked up Johodar, racing on the ground, and Marcale on his back, wielding a jousting lance.

_Hatchling, this is good sport is it not?_ Johodar roared in delight as he raced forward, he was swift in the air, and almost as swift on the ground, perhaps a testament to his connection to Marcale, who himself found running and racing exhilarating.

"If you call war… good sport…" Marcale felt queasy every time a solder fell in battle, when his blade cut, or his spear pierced, or his mace crushed, he felt a bit of himself wipe away. "I was an idiot, thinking this was… honorable."

_Battle in itself isn't honorable hatchling, it's about what you fight for, and how you fight that determine honor, that's what Eragon-Elda stated, is it not?_

Marcale nodded, "Yes, you are right!" He guided Johodar to the right, barely dodging giant arrow head the size of a small log. "Ballistae?!" He cried, looking ahead, Johodar melded Marcale's mind and shared his vision, seeing 5 or so gigantic crossbow like structures fixed to swiveling points on carts. "But! Those are leagues away!" Before he could start formulating a plan, he and Johodar rushed another group of enemy soldiers, dodging another ballista shot.

_Interesting, a weapon capable of harming us quite accurately at a far distance._ Johodar breathed gold-and-red flames on another group, filling the air with the scent of burnt skin and hair, spreading his wings he took to the skies, eventually, he caught up to Maheera and Juliana, who were rising up for their fourth dive.

_What do you two hatchlings want?!_ Juliana growled with irritation.

"_This isn't time for squabbling!"_ Marcale interrupted before Johodar took her bait. "_The enemy have ballistae capable of accurately hitting our locations from up to 3 leagues away!"_

"So?" Maheera asked, "you could dodge them just, fine right? You and I are nearest them anyway, but we can easily avoid them."

Marcale responded, "you don't understand Maheera, if they come just a half league closer, they can target the wall, the mages have their hands full blocking most arrows and the magic launched, do you think your wards can continuously withstand Ballistae shots?"

Maheera contemplated then looked down to Juliana, Marcale waited a short spell for their private conversation to finish. They looked up at him and gave him affirmation. Sighing in relief, Marcale rushed towards Rhumkard and Barukagon to tell them of his plan.

The kull dragon rider roared fiercely, as opposed to the other riders he fought on his feet, leading the knights and infantrymen, clearing the enemies attempting to cut off their exit path.

Barukagon was thick in the midst of enemy lines, but as the most physically powerful dragon alive he had the duty of leading the front lines. He and Rhumkard shared their senses, and the two of them together were able to gather important information about the battle, Rhumkard able to sense the movement of enemy magic users, and Barukagon able to see over the heads of countless soldiers, surveying large swaths of the battlefield. A field of bodies lay behind them as the troops in their care fought with renewed bravado.

_It looks like it may rain in the next hour, we should plan a retreat, the enemy will be bogged by the mud, blood, and bodies before them._

Rhumkard grunted in agreement, causing the soldiers around him to turn in confusion at him. No sooner had he turned to give the order when a streak of red and gold landed by his side. Marcale, riding Johodar, looked at him with a wild look.

"Ballistae! Two and a half leagues north west, range of a league!"

"Thank you for the information boy! You and Johodar lead these troops in a retreat!" Rhumkard sent a thought message to Perevail.

"_I have heard the message from Maheera, there are 3 ballistae."_

"_Then you know the plan."_

"_Approach close enough to destroy them with magic, hopefully, yes."_

Rhumkard cut through enemy soldiers, leaping unto Barukagon. "How are you holding?"

_Scratches here and there, and a slight prick from an especially skilled spearman in my left forepaw, but I'm more than capable of destroying a pair of oversized sling shots._ They charged forward, barreling through the enemy before leaping into the air just as a ballistae bolt sailed past their location. They rose higher and higher, banking once to avoid a ballistae shot.

"That… was frightfully close."

_Too close to be just mortal skill…_ Barukagon continued to rise ever higher. Reaching the first layer of clouds.

"_Maheera and Juliana are almost upon the ballistae, Belgabad and I are in place as well."_ Perevail messaged.

"You know what that means then bond." Rhumkard announced.

Barukagon responded with a loud roar, diving through the cloud, flame brewing in his throat...


	14. Chapter 14

Barukagon pierced through the clouds, to meet a Ballista bolt inches from his face. With trained precision, the black dragon arched his neck, the bolt sailing past his face towards the base of his neck, sitting there was Rhumkard, who swung his axe with extreme precision, smashing and splitting the bolt.

Past them, Maheera and Juliana had already made it to the first of the ballistae.

…

"Aaargh!" A Golden Horde soldier screamed out as he took an arrow to the stomach.

"That was the most intelligible noise I've heard from any of them," Maheera muttered humorously. "Any luck with that giant wooden slingshot?" She turned to look at her violet dragon, slashing and breathing fire at the Ballistae in front of her, in vain it seemed."

_Whatever barrier they put up, it is quite strong, a few of my swipes is normally enough to destroy the strongest barriers, save for those fueled by other dragons._

"Hopefully this is just impressively powerful, or a larger amount of mages put themselves to making this barrier," Marcale muttered in exhaustion. Johodar was only fairing slightly better, his mental voice dripped with fatigue.

_The bolts were frighteningly accurate 100 percent of the time it required me at times falling from the sky to avoid a barrage, and each time was still close enough to graze my wards. After the battle, Eragon must be alerted._

_Hmph, these… toothpicks are simply artificial claws, they aren't as impressive as me! _Juliana retorted, and with a roar, she leapt into the air, bearing down her full weight and ferocity unto the Giant Ballistae, finally breaking the barrier and smashing into the wooden contraption, crushing it. Before she could boast a bolt from one of the two remaining Ballistae broke through her barrier, tearing into her hind leg. Maheera screamed in pain alongside her dragon and fainted from the shock.

"Maheera!" Marcale caught the unconscious rider just before her head hit the ground, and Johodar stood in front of the injured dragon. "Johodar… we'll need to…"

Before Marcale could continue a troop of soldiers approached attacking the group.

_Damnable insects!_ Juliana hissed, and despite the severity of her injury, she lashed out, swinging her tail, a violet, deadly giant whip that smashed through a dozen enemies. Buckets of her blood spilled out with every major movement, but she fought like a beast possessed. Johodar and Marcale fought with equal ferocity, Johodar utilizing his speed to pick out the mages and kill them, and Marcale distracting the melee combatants.

Marcale trembled, swinging his blade and bashing his shield at the enemy. In the corner of his eye he saw the second ballistae preparing to attack them, in desperation he grasped the jewel in his long sword's pommel. Channeling the energy he and Johodar stored into the jewel he shouted "_Deloi Moi!"_ Beneath and in front of him the earth gathered together into a tiny slopped hill. It formed just in time, exploding out in dirt and debris as the ballista bolt crashed into it, piercing the earth but not going through it. Marcale barely let out a whimper as he gingerly stared at the missile, it was as thick as a log and several meters long, the fact it only pierced Juliana wing was a miracle.

_Quick thinking._ Johodar breathed hard, turning to look at Juliana with concern, the violent dragon was still bleeding from the hole in her wing, but it had slowed as the hot blood began to coagulate.

_I am fine, tend to my bond._ She hissed.

Marcale turned towards Maheera, who was breathing to his relief. The earth crumbled before him, no longer held together by his magic as he moved to heal the unconscious rider. He touched her sleeping face. "Oh, it seems' she's alright, I think she and your wards ran out, and she lost consciousness over it."

_I see, you can let her go now…_

Marcale's face grew hot as he snapped his hand to his side. But that bit of respite was cut short, more of the Golden horde soldiers rushed them.

Johodar growled and Maheera roared, both of them releasing powerful gouts of fire. Marcale for his part turned to the Ballistae. His throat filled with bile and dread filled his body as he saw the first of the intact Ballistas reloading. This dread was short-lived as, appearing out of thin air, Barukagon arrived, crashing unto the Ballistae from the top. Marcale heard a deep peel, like someone ringing a giant bell, and saw a flash of light as the world seemed to crack and the ward around the ballista shattered, allowing the Black Dragon to crush and destroy it with ease. And, as if the answer to a prayer, the third ballista was destroyed, exploding into a silver burst of flames as Belgabad and Perevail arrived. With the destruction of the ballistae, namely, the third one, the soldiers of the Golden Horde seemed to turn to flee. Marcale turned to look at his older rider and dragon companions in the distance gratefully. But then noticed they were flying towards his direction at an alarming rate.

_Young one! Look out!_ Johodar screamed mentally, Marcale turned to see the 'dark elf' closing in on his location with rapid speed. He prepared to cast a spell. "_Mi-"_ but was batted away by some unseen force. He got up to see the being raise its scepter, stabbing the bladed end towards Maheera. Time seemed to slow as the two dragons charged towards the being, but they wouldn't make it in time. With the little stamina he had left, Marcale did not speak, rather he willed it. The earth underneath the creature's feet shifted, causing him to slip and miss. Marcale closed his eyes, exhausted, losing consciousness but hoping the dragons could finish their enemy off. Johodar reached the dark elf first, forepaw slapping him away, Juliana was next, tail whipping with precision, smashing the dark elf into the ground. Both dragons roared with pain, gashes appearing on their forepaw and tail respectively.

"_Durankar"_ The dark being muttered, eyes glittering in a golden hue. "_It is an honor for you to meet me."_

"_Pretentious deer!"_ Juliana hissed in anger, breathing out another gout of fire, as if with premonition both she and Johodar leapt off the ground as spikes of earth rose to pierce where they had been before. As they turned to charge towards the dragon they felt themselves unable to move, and a massive mind attack theirs. Instantly, Johodar was gripped with fear, this mind was more foreign to him than even human, elven, dwarven, or Urgal minds. It was both primitive and advanced, savage and sorrowful, and filled with a cacophony of choruses reminding him of the first time he met the Eldurnari.

"_What… are...you?"_ He struggled out.

The being shrugged, antlers beginning to glow a green hue matching the glow of its scepter. "_Your nightmares made real, beast."_ He began floating towards the dragons, preparing to stab them in the skulls, before he could however, a massive war axe crashed into him, launching him into the ground. Almost immediately the magic holding the dragons in the air failed, and they slammed into the ground, dazed but not broken.

Rhumkard, ridingin on Barukagon, yelled out a war cry in defiance, landing heavily on the ground. Quickly behind him was Perevail and Belgabad, who tended to the unconscious riders and their injured dragons.

_I am sorry, we were weak… I was…_ Johodar began, _I bring shame to dragons._ Juliana was equally subdued in her shame.

"No, you did your best, the fault lies in us, for not coming to your aide sooner, you did well in destroying the enemy's tool of war, and well in defending yourself as long as you could, but take your riders and retreat, and warn the King of Surda and his generals of the power of this enemy." Perevail turned to the dark elf, eyes narrowing.

The dark elf, for his part, fought against Rhumkard with what seemed to be practiced ease, he leapt away from the Kull Rider's heavy, devastating swings, leaving small cuts and gashes here and there on the Rider's body. But by the looks of the two's faces, you'd believe the battle was going Rhumkard's way. He had a look of pure bliss and ferocity as he swung at his foe without abandon, sometimes switching to one hand so that his off hand could land a quick punch. He fought with agility one would find uncharacteristic for his size and weight, using momentum and gravity to keep the dark elf at bay.

Eventually, the dark elf seemed to lose patience as the ground beneath them began to warp. Rhumkard began to stumble, but before this slip could be capitalized on, Perevail leapt forward, tower shield deflecting the scepter's thrust.

Rhumkard grunted in thanks and the two began attacking the dark elf in earnest.

"_You are both skilled, years of training together?"_ Neither answered the dark elf's queery. "_I see… you wish to distract me."_

The dark elf charged forward, impaling himself in their blades. Surprised, Rhumkard and Perevail watched in horror as the being turned his head 180 degrees and pointed a mangled arm directly behind him to target the retreating Johodar and Maheera, the latter of which had a recently healed wing. Before he could utter a spell however, the dark elf felt a great pressure as he was flung off the blades of his enemy into the air. His golden eyes flickered in great surprise, turning to look at the source of the spell, the large Silver-Grey dragon that looked as if it was in armor narrowed it's eyes again as the dark elf's body was cast ablaze remotely.

"_Magic?"_ He muttered incredulously as his body burned to nearly a crisp. It began to reform at an alarming rate, but Barukagon had already leapt into the air, slapping the still healing dark elf into the ground and separating it finally from it's scepter. The dark elf's healing slowed, but did not stop, but now, with the combined fire of Barukagon and Belgabad, the creature's body began to slowly get destroyed.

An explosion knocked them all back, their wards barely keeping them from dying. Barely putting himself together, the dark elf stumbled up, and towards his scepter, Rhumkard attempted to rush towards him but collapsed, the fumes from the explosion leaving him exhausted. "W..what…?"

"_Carbon Monoxide, not as if you would understand… wet firewood burns badly, and one of the gasses it releases is Carbon Monoxide, which strips oxygen from the air to create a composition like what you breathe out. I simply became the catalyst for that, and now… you will die, robbed of your ability to breath in within this thick body of gas."_

Perevail cast a spell to attempt to clear the air, and feeling the great loss of energy, instead worded a spell to allow a pocket of breathable air to be afforded to himself, Rhumkard, Belgabad, and Barukagon.

"_...Clever…"_ The dark elf muttered, a hint of mirth in his voice. "_It will take some moments, but the air will clear, but by then my body will fully heal."_ Even as the battle had raged externally the looming, massive presence of the creature's mind had fought against them, now, it had backed off. "_Let us parley, warriors as great as yourselves do the world a disservice with your deaths."_

"Parley?! We have attempted to speak to your people, and now you speak of Parley?!" Rhumkard growled angrily.

"Calm yourself brother…" Perevail spoke quietly. "Parley you say, how can we trust that you aren't a danger to us, or are using this time to heal to fight again?"

The dark elf mumbled a bit and turned to his side, materializing was a second dark elf, a younger female resembling a human or elven youth in the middle of adolescence, she had less intricate antlers and only a few runic like tattoos on her skin. They began to speak to each other in an unknown tongue to the elf, Urgal, or dragons, but they could see the female growing more and more agitated with the male's words, raising her voice after each of his replies, finally, staring daggers at the riders with her golden eyes, she grabbed his green scepter and turned to leave. "_That was my daughter, she has taken my most dangerous weapon, the magic sealing scepter, with it, I am much weaker, but still very capable of fighting you both, but not winning without perhaps dying myself, as I'm sure you can suspect."_

Perevail pondered for a few seconds, then nodded. "Fine then… what do you, what do your people, want?"

"They are too loud," Elva muttered in indignation.

"Don't be so rude Elva." Angela admonished. "A major battle was just won. They have at least a month to recuperate until the Golden Horde gathers its forces again."

_They are still loud…_ Solembum flicked his ears in annoyance. Indeed, the people celebrating the victory of the riders and the soldiers shouted at the top of their lungs, filling the air with their mirth.

A bubbly looking youth cajoled with his friends, dancing in front of a bar and singing of their latest victory.

_Dammit, I haven't seen my brother yet, he wrote a letter yesterday, is he still manning the walls, did he die and they lied to me?_

Elva eyed what looked to be a young man drinking and attending to a group of older, stern men discussing the war candidly.

_My feet hurt, throat burns, need more goddamn liquor, we should be celebrating but so many of these idiots have hollow looks on their faces._

A soldier is surrounded by women as he tells them tails of mostly fabricated heroism.

_This… war, doesn't seem to end, was taking the throne from Galbatorix this hard? They keep coming back, month after month, slightly more of them than before each time, we can't just generate more men like they seem to._

Another soldier, backing him up, also sung praises about how close the enemy got to the walls and on how they were able to push the enemy back and away.

_Those goddamn smug elves were terrified when that dark-skinned antlered thing got close to the walls. What were the riders doing?! The wall was almost breached and we lost 200 men! The army retreated but none of the enemy talked, and two of the Riders are still in the middle of the battlefield, talking to that damn freak no less! They aren't our kings, they aren't our leaders, we can't trust them!"_

Elva's face twisted in distaste, fear was a painful poison capable of spreading, at the least, the soldier who believed those thoughts internally was able to hide his true feelings from his face, but it was perhaps those sorts of people Elva hated the most.

"I am sorry though, I keep dragging us around." She muttered quietly.

"Oh?" Angela murmured in surprise. "I never thought I'd hear those words from your mouth Elva, especially after everywhere I've dragged you." She added with a level of mirth.

_Whether it be you or Angela taking us on a journey, there is almost never an uninteresting thing going on._ Solembum flicked his ears at an especially loud crash of cooking wear as a drunken trader fell unto his wares. _Besides, while not perfect, I quite enjoy the quiet that this land had finally achieved, war is messy, annoying, and bothersome, and those nightmares of yours even more so._

The nightmares he was referring to were a series of different premonitions Elva had begun to experience, each and everyone at enough of a scale that the lives of everyone in Alagaesia would be effected negatively, the first of these premonitions was what had them sneak in to the capital to warn Nasuada of the traitors in the mage faction, they again snuck in, easier the second time, to warn her of the traitors in the anti-mage faction, and now they snuck into Surda to stop another danger, but this time it was more vague.

"Are you certain you can't tell anything specific to the type of danger? Your last two nightmares gave you names, times of attack, and even some things to expect even as you made your way to change the outcome." Angela began.

"I wish I knew more, all I know is that the danger takes place in the capital city Aberron, but not when it will occur, hopefully, we will garner enough news to take care of the issue."

"Well, we might be here for a while." Angela sighed, walking towards an empty looking lot, looking around she walked towards a well dress fellow nearby, after some small talk the man burst out laughing, took out a piece of parchment, and wrote something on it, handing it to Angela, who turned to look at Elva and Solembum Triumphantly.

"...What?"

Angela smirked, "I don't know how long we'll be here, but I think I'd like to set up shop while I'm here, Surda doesn't have the same magic restrictions, and the Broddring Kingdom can't exactly hunt me down even if they knew I was here…" She winked. "So, sister, we're setting up a shop, and Solembum's our little brother, while we lay low learn what exactly is going on."

Elva rolled her eyes at the centuries old woman's child-like enthusiasm, but a small smile crept up her face. "Oh brother" she sighed.

"Oh 'Sister', you mean." Angela retorted with a snort.

...


	15. Chapter 15

"Ugh, why are you here?!" Nya demanded.

"I can be here if I want, we don't follow your orders." Cynthia retorted, "Why, scared you can't cheat with us near?"

The Mage Apprentices and Knight Apprentices stared each other down with looks mixed with hostility and competitiveness.

Venka shook her head; but also admitted to herself if not for them being in the same Squad as Faris, she'd likely be at least somewhat dismissive of the group of warriors, if only for their constant snarky nature.

"Please, like I'd need to cheat to beat you guys, Mages require stamina, we aren't those pencil-necked losers you pretend are actually top-class magic users."

"Come on Nya, no need to lose your cool." Morgan added, "We'd win easily without needing to piss them off."

"Tough talk coming from the bean sprout." John retorted.

This elicited chuckles from Cynthia, Nya, and Katya, causing John to turn red slightly, "At least I'm not a muscle head who couldn't tell the difference between a kite and a pair of undergarments."

It was John's turn to turn red and he started striding towards Morgan, who clenched his fist. Manny and Bartholomew stood in front of their respective teammates, calming them down.

"Guys, cool down, it's just a race." Venka finally said.

"Just a game?!" Nya and Cynthia interjected at the same time.

"Are you crazy?! It only happens every few years! Don't you know the prize for the youth team that earns the highest scores?"

"...No?" Venka said.

Morgan looked shocked, "We'll be introduced to the rider dragon eggs."

Venka raised her eyebrow, "so? I heard that they're paraded in front of the big cities once a year."

"Not just anyone gets to be near the eggs, and only two or three are introduced a year. There are only 9 dragon riders that we know of. None of us have gotten the chance to be introduced to the eggs." Cynthia adds.

"I thought you hated magic." Venka muttered.

"This is different! Riders are amazing and awesome, and I'd get to learn under Eragon, the Legendary Shadeslayer!" Cynthia blushed and held her hands to her cheeks. "He saved the entire land from the evil king! And he's real! Those folktales and legends of amazing heroes? He's real, and the proof in in Vulcan and Volund, a real dragon, a real dwarf! And Eragon is super handsome!" She took out a parchment from her bag, in it was a painting of a man with elf and human like traits, brown shoulder length hair, wearing golden and silver armor with flowing robes and blue and gold ribbons. He stood, facing the painter with a confident and determined smile on his face.

"Pshht, he's not that great…" John mutters, but quickly adds, "He's an amazing swordsman though."

"Why do you carry this around?" Venka asked curiously, "I'd think that you'd keep it safe in your room, especially if you cherish it so much.

"Ahem! Only because these guys get their grubby paws on my paintings and such!" Cynthia's fellow knight apprentices looked away with nervous trepidation.

"Hahaha, you all need to learn self control!" Morgan smiled haughtily, he and the other mage apprentices nodded sagely.

"Like any of you are one to talk," Bartholomew muttered, "Faris would complain about you grabbing his fairths and paintings, he even made several backups to tide you over but you still found his private stuff, munched his food, spilled crumbs and sweet and spicy sauces all ov- uh… aaagh!" Bartholomew was interrupted by a quick punch to the shoulder, rubbing it, he stared at Nya sourly as the others chuckled nervously.

"Hmph, and where's Faris now? Your faction abandoned him." Cynthia added.

The slightly jovial mood broke down as Venka looked at them with an irritated expression. "Rembrant, a member of **your** faction, was murdering children, because he wanted to get into the pants of the leader of a dangerous and highly psychopathic cult that was so fanatical it has members of both our factions. I hate that Faris was abandoned, but, where is he now?"

"He's in our faction of course! We took him in, and are treating him as well as possible."

"Wait? What?!" Nya interjected, but before she could continue, Venka retorted.

"And, if he's in your squad, where is he!?"

"Oh? What's it matter to you, he wasn't interested in joining." Cynthia said defensively. Manny and Vern looked away.

"Liar," Venka muttered.

"Wait? Repeat that, Faris is now one of them?" Nya asked with disbelief.

_Crap,_ Venka realized.

"Wait, Venka, did you know?" Morgan asked with disbelief. Katya also turned to look at Venka, who began to struggle to come up with an adequate answer.

"Well yeah she'd know, I found out pretty easily myself." Seya stated matter-of-factly. "In fact, Bartholomew probably knew too."

The group was silent now, with Nya turning to Venka, "we'll deal with the secrets later. But you!" She then turned to Cynthia, "If he's really on 'your side', bullshit he didn't want to join, the chance of becoming a rider? Where is he?"

Cynthia was about to respond when the announcer's voice, amplified by a spell, began to sound out.

"...Around the first river and arcing through a vast swath of our road and lands, this race will be a total of about 50 to 60 thousand paces."

"50 to 60 thousand?" Bartholomew's face turned pale. "Well, I might just crap myself halfway there." He added jokingly, however, no one laughed. Nya had a look of simmering rage on her face, Morgan, Katya, and Venka all bore frowns, and while Seya kept the same half-smile on her face she normally bore. "...yeesh."

…

_Faris_

"Yes, Minnie?"

_My cats found something._

Faris got up, massaging his bruises from training with Bergan earlier. "Is it one of your rivals or related to the fellows who attacked me?

_It is… odder_, _the lesser one in question was quite frightened by whatever it smelt, and what it saw scared it even more. She was chasing prey, a rat that had somehow dodged her ambush. A gnarled hand reached out to grab both her and the rat, she wheeled out of the way but the rat was less fortunate._

"Oh, weird, probably a homeless man, concerning somewhat, especially if he has any diseases, where was this?"

_Along the slum streets, one of those gratings that catch rain and street water._

"The sewers?" Faris cocked his head and walked up to his window sill, opening it, he waited a few seconds as the werecat leapt into his room.

_Jerky_. She looked up at Faris, who hid his smile as he walked over to his pack to hand her some beef Jerky. She purred as she ate.

Faris felt her reach into his mind, and he raised his defenses as they began to battle mentally. This was a game between them, Minnie wouldn't give information unless Faris could satisfy her in this mental tug of war, and Faris could train his mental defense and offense. He couldn't extend past his mind to mount an offense directly against anyone, but he was slowly devising ways to fight with his handicaps, at the moment, Minnie was ahead of him by an extreme margin, but he had slowly begun to win a few of their mental fights, or at least, entertain her enough that she'd concede the information she was offering.

_You've gotten much better in the few days since we've begun._

"_Well, you come to offer me information at least 7 times over the span of 24 hours, I'm not so inept I can't improve even slightly."_ Faris replied. Minnie was a predator; her mental combat style matched her feline tendencies. She would commence the attack with little warning, if she broke past his defenses she'd squeeze his mind in a vice-like grip, nearly killing him unless he yielded or lost consciousness. If he managed to defend himself she would retract her mind before he could grasp at it, wait until he began to relax then attacked him from a different angle.

Faris for his part learned to defend himself even when someone breached his outside defenses, and in their most recent fights, he had begun to pull on Minnie's mind, making her retreat back into her own mind a more difficult endeavor.

At the moment Faris was able to predict the angle of attack and concentrated whenever he felt the slightest touch. They would remain in a stalemate until Minnie grew bored, Faris waited right upon that moment to weaken his defenses. Minnie capitalized, her tail twitching in excitement in real life as she brought her full force down on his mind. Faris retaliated by completely ignoring defense, using all of the pain and separation to lash out, twisting and pulling, cutting and piercing, thrusting and slamming against Minnie's attack, the force, and ferocity so great it shocked Minnie, causing her mind to seemingly freeze. Faris similarly paused. Eventually, Minnie extracted herself from their entwined minds.

_You cheated somehow._

"How?!" Faris retorted. "Just admit I surprised you."

Instead of replying, Minnie connected her mind again, this time more gently as she relayed the memories she was given by the normal cat. Faris's jovial attitude turned dark as he began stringing together a creative but chaotic mix of every language he was even remotely familiar with. He turned to explain to Minnie, who in turn hissed on reflex at the news. Without any word, Faris slipped into his combat-ready gear: a thick leather tunic with a chain shirt over it. He equipped a dagger, short sword, slingshot, and torch, with plans to run towards the nearest guard station. Right before he left the door, he thought again, running to Gurant's room and taking out the key to a lockbox, inside where three flintlock-styled pistols, he grabbed one.

"Goddamnit, " Faris muttered, he looked up to see Ventus soaring after them. "City just recovered from a battle, I lost my magic, the squad I'm stationed with hates me, my best friend is a psychotic cat-person, we might be at the start of a continent shattering race war, and there's a Ra'Zac in the city…."

…

The two Dragon Riders Rhumkard and Perevail looked at the dark elf warily. Their dragons growled menacingly in turn, though if the being was intimidated, it did well not showing it.

"You state you want parely, fine then, speak your terms." Rhumkard growled.

"_Should we not exchange names?" _The dark elf enquired.

"Names have power."

"_I do not desire your 'true names'! Simply your given name, that you choose to go by or which was given to you at birth or at some juncture in your life." _The dark elf grew irritated, "_If it will make it easier for you, I will answer a question of equivalent or lesser value to any questions you answer."_

Before Rhumkard could retort smartly, Perevail interrupted him. "I am Perevail Alabasta, of a minor noble house of elven lineage. My dragon and friend over there are Belgabad." Belgabad for his part growled.

The dark elf nodded, turning to Rhumkard, who, after a deep sigh spoke. "I am Rhumkard, son of Torkquar, nephew of Nar Garzhvog. A proud Kull warrior, my brother in arms and battle companion is Barukagon." Barukagon roared loudly.

"_I see… ThankYou."_

"And what is your name, and title if you have one, perhaps also, the name of your race?" Perevail asked.

"_My people do not often need to refer to names with each other, but when dealing with those outside the race, I am known as Andras. As for a racial title? We hail from the land known as Hestia, you may call us Hestians, though, your nickname of 'dark elf' is ironically apt, and thus, you can continue to hold my race to that moniker, we have no name for our race, our language if translated to yours simply refers to our kin specifically as 'people', we make no differentiation on race, all other specific groups, such as what you call dwarves, humans, Urgals, and elves, would simply be referred to as 'people' as well. Does that answer your question?"_

"Yes, Thank You.." Perevail says.

"_Good, for my next question, the… Abomination, does he still live?"_

"Abomination?"

"_Yes…"_ Andras struggled for the words, then snapped his finger, "_The king with a-thousand mad souls, does he live still, or has he succumbed to his insanity?"_

"What? Do you mean the Oath-Breaker Galbatorix? He died over a decade ago, in fact, he was slain."

"_Ah, I recall that, he was slain? That… changes things."_

"Changes things in what way?" Rhumkard asked.

"_The… Oath-Breaker, as you call him, made his intentions clear to slay our leaders and rule our lands, by vote my people moved to take over this land to face him, and to fulfill another purpose, if he is indeed dead, and his replacement is not a monster of similar power and madness, one of our reasons to invade you is now null."_

"Only one?" Perevail asked. The dark elf did not answer.

"_If you remember, I will answer one question for every question you answer, is that the question you wish to ask me?"_

Perevail was about to stutter out an answer, but Rhumkard interrupted him. "Yes."

"_I see. Then, my question is, the Durankar, what you call dragons, these two are close to you, they are under a magical binding against their will?"_

Belgabad was the one who answered.

_The bond between rider and dragon is not to be insulted, we are not under servitude to our riders or vice versa, we are partners in battle, individuals and a single unit simultaneously._

"_Hmmm, as you say, as for your question, no, not the only one, our people determined that your nations were committing grievous acts we could not forgive, and, the language of magic and binding is an affront that we must purge. You have satisfied all the questions I have, so I will take my leave."_

"Wait, you owe us one more question." Rhumkard announced.

"_I do not."_

"Yes, you do." The Kull smirked, "you asked if Perevail's inquiry was the question we wished to ask, and we answered your question."

The dark elf began to laugh, a deep, almost maniacal burst of mirth. "_Clever, truly clever, some of the people would say your kin in my and your lands are simply savages, but you have a sharp wit to you." _He crossed his arms. "_Fine, as a courtesy to your humorous find, I'll answer one last question."_

Rhumkard took a few seconds to ponder, he turned to Perevail, who nodded reassuringly.

"This extra question is yours to ask, you created this opportunity after all."

After some time of running it through his head he spoke.

"You say that the term 'dark elf' is an apt description, though if only ironically, why is that? What are you as a race that such a term is true, what are you as a race that our use of the ancient language is an affront, we see that your mages do not often ever utter it."

The dark elf smiled. "_I would have thought you'd have asked for my race's weakness, or any other question leading to a tactical advantage over us in battle."_

"You have not asked any question that I could interpret of that nature and attitude, so I thought it best to resolve my side's largest question over anything else, especially as most if not all of your armies captured don't speak."

"_My race's origin is no great secret to my people, or to the other people of our land…"_ He paused for a few seconds and spoke again, "_... you are fortunate, your wit amused the majority, so we will answer."_

Rhumkard sat on Barukagon's massive forelimb. "Out with it then."

"_Good things come to those who wait. But I see I am boring you. My race, if we had a name in the ancient language it would perhaps be Allr-Gath or Allr-blöd (all-united, or all-blood respectively)."_

"Unique name." Rhumkard offered. "Why don't we call you the Allr for short then."

"_You know the Grey folk correct? As part of my answer, I must know what your knowledge of their binding of magic to the ancient language entailed."_

"We learned that there was a time when magic wasn't bound by language, so a stray thought could kill people by accident. At one point a mage thoughtlessly released a catastrophe that nearly destroyed all life, thus the Grey Folk bound magic to their language, allowing others to now cast spells without needing to worry about their stray thoughts, as the Ancient Language are words of truth that bind whoever speak them to the action in magic they invoke." Perevail said.

The dark elf clapped. "_That is the most basic understanding. Did you know however, that the releaser of that catastrophe were the Grey folk themselves?_ _And that the catastrophe was at first a willing choice? The Grey folk had gone to war against another enemy, and in their desperation to win and claim the lands, they forced one of their most powerful to use magic to enchant a microbial life to become hostile to the specific body of their enemy. In their error, they did not realize that the enemy they fought were similar to them enough that the microbe could in turn infect them. The symptoms were long days of feverish agony, finally followed by a longer, painful death. Half their kin were infected before they could find a cure, but it was enough that their race would be ruined, they could not hold the lands they had after the chaos, and the others in their control, angered at their callous foolishness, joined their enemy and rose against them."_

"Who was this enemy?" Perevail asked.

"_Humans,"_ he smiled, "_humans, in their numerous numbers and ingenious means of gaining yield from the land piqued the interest of the Grey folk, who in turn sought to take them over. As I'm sure you know, humans are frightfully stubborn, stupidly superstitious and zealous, and, more often than not, naturally xenophobic if not introduced to the concept different peoples before the age of 8, they had little to no talent in magic, and were barely at the cusp of bronze tools, but they were so numerouse that they made up for their short comings with sheer body count._ _The Grey folk, much like your elves one day became, were functionally immortal, save for deadly blow or incurable fatal disease, they would continue for thousands of years, if not forever, the oldest of their species, and acting king of their nation being recorded at 174,652 years of age before their decline."_

"How could anyone live that long without growing mad? What was the cause for their immortality?" Perevail asked.

"_...Since those could be interpreted as offshoots of your friend's question, I can answer. As opposed to your race, who gained your newfound longevity recently by our reckoning, the Grey folk were born with this immortality, they were powerful magic users, each one with internal stamina rivaling that of dragons, powerful, quick of mind and body, and even bearing traits that made them dangerously powerful, they could, for one, absorb the power of the sun, mixed with water and minerals, they could provide nutrients for their bodies to be sustained on, much like plants, yet they also ate, and ate with gusto, their excess nutrients stored in crystal like growths along their body and hidden within, allowing them access to spells of magnitudes that would kill any human at a regular basis throughout the day._"

He closed his eyes, "_Humans at the time were disparate settlements that fought against each other for food, resources, technology, and women, their barbarity equal only to their creativity. Only a tiny few understood the workings of magic to the extent they could be useful in battle, and often they required decades to be at a level of competency the Grey folk would attribute to one of their toddlers. The Grey folk were surprised to see how quickly they banded together when the alien presence of the Grey folk began to invade, and were shocked to find that despite their obvious advantages, and humans dying in droves, they made little head wind. Eventually, a human magic user allowed herself to be captured alongside a group of children to be taken in as slaves. She was quite clever, hiding her knowledge of magic and biology. When finally close enough, she devised a spell, killing several Grey folk, including a visiting dignitary before she was captured. During the chaos slaves revolted and a few escaped. The monolith that was the Grey folk could be injured or killed, humans, a non equal society, in realizing that a 'mere' woman could kill these god-like invaders, redoubled their efforts and cultivated their magicians and medicine people, they desecrated their own corpses to determine how bodies worked, and used their own prisoners and criminals as experimental subjects to observe how best to kill with magic, and began to devise underhanded tactics to take advantage of the Grey folk's arrogance."_

The Allr, who had been smiling as he described the human resurgence, frowned.

"_The Grey folk were arrogant, but they weren't fully stupid, this was the first time any of their people had lost their lives, they tortured the magic user who did it, stripping every bit of information they could glean for her, made a public show of torturing her in front of their own people and the various slaves and servants of different races, gaining more ire from that. They began to devise poisons, diseases, and various other afflictions for the sole purpose of tormenting and eventually exterminating humans, they would strip their primitive, rustic knowledge from the corpses and few survivors the Grey folk surmised. And it was in this moment that they forced their most powerful magic user to devise his disease. You see, in their folly, he had spent so long observing the body of the human and how she reacted to their various afflictions that he formed a pseudo-romantic bond with the idea of her, in this, he also discovered that humans were more similar to the Grey folk than different, both of these things shaped the ultimate outcome of the virus, which in turn allowed it to quickly mutate and infect their people as well."_

He Opened his golden eyes. Rhumkard and Perevail were listening intently.

"_Humans quickly understood the the ramifications of such an infection, and redoubled their efforts. The Grey folk, unused to such pain, could only collapse under this infection, the pain made humans psychotic, and their life burned like stars about to die, exploding in a final brilliant light. In their desperation the Grey Folk created another blunder, a species to hunt humans, a species you'd call the Ra'zac. The Ra'zac wreaked havoc on humans, who could not stand against them at night, it was enough for the human kingdoms to finally break apart, and a third of them to flee on sailing vessels, one day landing in Alagaesia. The Ra'zac, created to be sadistic, chased after the ones who fled wholesale, their eggs were carried via ship by human slaves, who had taken to worship the Ra'zac as aspects of a destroying deity. Of course the majority that flew after died in the various storms that marked their trek, but the rest of the humans, too broken to recover, where captured and taken into servitude by the Grey Folk. But their people were almost killed by the infection they created, and only through great work did they finally irradicate it, with their kingdom in the decline and servants rearing to revolt, they devised a scheme."_

He smiled.

"_The ancient language isn't just to protect magic users, it's to control them, for anyone who knows the true name of the ancient language controls all who utilize the language to conduct their spells, elves had learned the language from the Grey Folk long ago, and passed it on to the dwarves, then later humans and Urgals of this land. But the Grey folk could never capitalize on this spread knowledge the spell took too much from their people, and as such, they lost their greatest asset, their immortality."_

"Hold on, this is a nice story, but this doesn't explain who or what you people are, unless you mean to state you are the last of the Grey Folk."

"_No… we are not. The Grey folk moved to sustain their race as quickly as possible, they tried mating with magically powerful races like Elves, hoping that the offspring born from these unions would regain their lost immortality. With that failed, they attempted to immortalize themselves, creating the first of what you call Spirits, but Spirits were imperfect, only containing fragments of each of the Spirit's ego, and unfortunately, Spirits began to materialize on random, weaker than the first but slowly increasing in power when inhabiting locations of wild magic. So, they decided, much like with the Ra'zac, they would create a race suitable to host them, a new immortal race in their image, but, they went too far, they didn't want a successor race, they wanted a puppet to inhabit."_

He stretched his hand across his body and horns. "_Embodying the best traits of every sentient race they encountered, and sculpting our bodies to the epitome of what they considered beautiful, they used the highly potent elves as the base, and created us from that. Each of my kind were born with limited intelligence and consciousness in that first generation, and they would take the fragmented spirits, and force them into us, the perfect hosts."_

"That is how shades are made!"

"_Yes, yes it is, but they may have made us too perfect, our limited capacity was their spirit's undoing, and instead of them being the masters, we took control, we had been born from countless races, and given the memories of thousands, mired with regret, pain, fear, pride, rage, and ultimately apathy, and so, we in turn decided to turn the rest of our 'parents' into the spirits they so desperately wished to be. But they would not be part of our people. We destroyed the fragments creating their memories, but a few survived, those you'd call 'powerful, evil spirits'. We eventually united the races in our land, but the ancient language continues to bind us, so, we chose to never use it, save for a few instances, it is not how we use our magics. But we will not be fully safe until it is expunged, as any who have a race in the ancient language are also somewhat beholden to its will, and every individual's true name is the greatest of sins."_

"So, you were created to be new immortal bodies for the grey folk, and your mix of traits is due to a mix of human, elf, and urgal?"

"_Other races were added, what you call werecats, dragons, and even a few that have long since died out and have no recorded names but walked the land as Giants. Dwarves, who are native to this land of yours were not part of the mix, but one of the races within us could be defined as a predecessor."_

"So, our grievous act…." Perevail began wearily.

"_The language of binding, it is an affront to natural chaos, and weakens all under its grip, we wish to be free of its binding purpose, but for that, we need the majority of those who use it to either recant their usage of it, or be purged before we can utterly divorce it from the fabric of magic."_

"Could we not live in peace?" Perevail asked, "We have no reason to attack your kin."

"_Some of the fragments contain memories, the ancient language can trigger those memories, making even more powerful shades, if one such being collects enough spirits into his or herself, the very nature of magic may be subject to its will. Perhaps even awakening as a Grey Folk in their fullest capacity, in a world bound by the ancient language, its creators would be gods, as even the haughty dragons saw fit to allow themselves to be bound to it when they joined the elves to create your Riders. You have asked me a question, now you must answer mine. In order to achieve peace, you must cut your connection to the ancient language, this means destroying your pact with dragons and reverting each race to what they were before the binding oath, would you agree to those terms?"_

Rhumkard and Perevail could not answer, but they did not need to as Andras looked at them with almost sad eyes.

"_I thought so, my people will deliberate our next action, perhaps an envoy with peace deliberation, perhaps a larger army, try to survive till the next month."_ Before the riders could react, he disappeared.

Rhumkard quickly got on his dragon. "We must tell Eragon and the others quickly."


	16. Chapter 16

_"I see, that is troubling news."_

Vulcan stood with Nasuada along with Mages of the council of thirteen. They looked at four sets of mirrors. The largest Mirror contained an image of King Orrin, his retainers, the Riders, and a few high ranking members of each race defending Surda from the Golden Horde invasion.

In the second mirror, the person who spoke, Orik, King of the Dwarves, spoke once more. _"It troubles mine ears that monsters of this caliber have existed to our east and south for this long. And that, they wish to take away magic as we know it."_

Orrin spoke, _"I'm certain it should be obvious that we can't agree to those demands, given what we know about magic, the idea that the ancient language is actually a limiter is more beneficial than anything else."_

"We are agreed then." Nasuada said, much to the chagrin of some of the mages in their entourage.

In the third mirror was Ayra, Queen of the elves, alongside members of her noble council. She narrowed her cat-like eyes, _"It is disturbing to find that the Grey Folk we so honored in our histories were little better than slavers."_

_"I wouldn't exactly say that; they simply were the strong." _Orrin replied with a bit of humor,_ "But they underestimated human tenacity, but were also likely much smaller than your race in population size." _He ignored the irritated looks the elves around him gave. _"Ultimately though, the fears of these… Hestians are unfounded. Because they fear the possibility of this ancient race returning, they will do as their former masters did and enslave others. Perhaps they should look to themselves before turning on others."_

_"While I understand the head-ache of magic, it is not without merit, and the ability to control it is important. I in mine own experience understand the peril of generational Blood Feuds, one such that almost took the life of my honorary brother Eragon."_ Orik stroked his well-braided beard. _"I trust not the words of these outsiders, but of my clan, my family, and my allies, who bled with me to dispose of the mad king."_

"I do not see how their plan to undo the enchantment would instead make others safer, even if the ones who created the curse in the first place we're the Grey Folk, the fact this spell prevents the chance of it happening due to the ability to specify the spell's workings allows one greater ease by which to counter the spell." Nasuada spoke with finality and Vulcan nodded.

_"We agree as well, the ancient language bound the elves to the dragons, and now binds all four major races of Alagaesia together with the dragons and riders, to undo the ancient language is to undo every spell and ritual we have conceived, the elves cannot ever and will not ever stand for this."_ Elva decreed.

After a moment of silence, Vulcan watched as the eyes, both in the room he was in and in the messaging mirrors shifted to the last mirror. After a moment of silence, Eragon, leader of the new Rider Order spoke, _"They seek to recant the ancient language but do not know its name despite descending from the ones who created it, that is what I feel is most suspicious. That, and their weapons, similar to the dragon-slaying weapons created during the height of the elf-and-rider war, they clearly came with the intent to counter those who fight utilizing the ancient language. And the fact they only now choose to speak is more indicative of either internal strife or the opinion that we are more formidable than they had anticipated." _Eragon closed his sonorous brown eyes, slightly slanted as of his mixed human-elf traits, and smiled. _"Saphira states they are as jackals, attempting to weaken us by any means, then ripping out our throats when unawares, and agrees with my summation that unless they bring forward the proposal of unconditional peace, we cannot even begin to discuss their concerns. King Orrin, be careful, your people have fought bravely, let me and the others know of how we may assist you further."_

_"More interesting than their warped ideology however is their technology."_ Orrin said suddenly, his lack of acknowledgment of Eragon's last words seemed to resonate in the room, but Eragon smiled graciously. After some awkward silence, Orik spoke.

_"You were known to be an inventor, Orrin, let us know of your findings, and as Eragon said, let us know of any aid you need, our troops are there as well."_

Orrin finally nodded, his gloomy eyes showing a bit of irritation and weariness. Eventually, he spoke again, _"I notice neither Nar Garzhvog nor Halfpaw are here, why?"_

It was Eragon who answered. _"Nar Garzhvog states that his people are busy training their reserve troops while their main force assists in manning the walls and their greater warriors are partaking in the games, but told me to tell you all that regardless of your decision, as long as it was not harmful to his Urgralga, he and the other leaders and Dams would abide by your ruling, but that to defeat your enemy you must know them. As for the werecats, they only formed a coalition and chose Grimrr as their representative and acting king, when the war ended, he abdicated, and they do not have another king, as they simply drifted apart again."_

Orrin finally acknowledged Eragon's words, nodding slightly. _"I'll let everyone know if I find anything of note in the ballistae remains."_ The mages on his end cut the communication.

_"He is quite angry…"_ Orik spoke.

"He hasn't stopped being angry, not since he lost his friend in the War against Galbatorix." Nasuada said sadly, "coupled with the allying with the Urgals and losing the bid to the throne, the fact the enemy only viewed Surda as a stepping stone to attempt to take the continent properly must infuriate him to no end."

_"That can't excuse his insolent nature." _Arya said hotly, _"We have sent our people to bleed alongside his own at the walls, and as such we at least deserve his respect." _

_"It is unwise and painful to speak about him behind his back like this, " _Eragon said, _"At the end of the day he is still our ally, and I believe still a good person. Perhaps we should speak of other matters, how go the Great Games?"_

"It is the first day, but the first race went well, we had a lot of enthusiastic young contestants, some even beating many of the adult competition. But members of every race who competed made great showings."

_"What of the investigation?"_ Orik asked.

After a bit of awkward silence, Vulcan stepped forward. "Mine king-"

_"No, you are a rider, independent from the clans and royalty, while you are a Knurlan, you are equivalent to a high ranking noble of any nation."_ Orik sighed, _"I simply need information. Have the ones who took the lives of three of Clan Vrenshrrgn's Knurlans been found?"_

"Not yet, but we have conclusive evidence that it was not the Urgals."

_"That is not much better, all it means is that humans may have done it, which does little to ease my people's call for vengeance and my detractor's call for us to pull from the coalition and somehow expunge ourselves from the Riders contract."_

_"How dare they!"_ A noble elf shouted in anger, Arya turned towards him, and he backed down.

_"That would be… Difficult, enchantments are hard to break, and we do not know how it would affect Vulcan and Volund's bond even if we could make such a change."_ Arya finally said.

"Give us some more time Orik, we will find the culprits, and they will be brought to you."

_"Please see to it that you do Nasuada, ah, though, I heard one of them attacked one of the younger Urgals, how is he?"_

"He is well." Vulcan was surprised.

_"Good, we dwarves have an enmity with the Urgals, they called us small and hornless, to us they are clumsy beardless giants, but they are powerful warriors, I witnessed many of them fall in battle alongside mine own brethren in the war, and they fought with honor in their attempt to slay Lord Barst."_ He closed his eyes, _"I do not want this alliance, this piece we've chiseled from stones of struggle, to end like this."_

"We promise you, it will not," Nasuada said.

_"Please do." _Orik turned his head, and smiled, _"It pleased my eyes to see you again Eragon."_

Eragon in turn smiled, despite being in his early 30's he had been immortalized in his late twenties, tall, muscular, and with dark brown hair and equally dark eyes that twinkled as he smiled at his friend and brother. _"I am happy to see you as well, life is just, too busy sometimes."_

_"I should introduce you all to my daughter one day."_

_"You had a child Orik?!"_ Eragon exclaimed with joy and disbelief.

_"You would have learned had you been answering my mages more often."_ Orik replied, cross.

Eragon absentmindedly scratched the back of his head as he mumbled a few apologies, causing Orik to burst into laughter, a few of the dwarves and elves snickered and even Nasuada and Arya allowed themselves small smiles.

"Be that as it may…" Orik glared at his aides, who quickly quieted down. "It would be unfair of me to not admit that I have also been busy. So, at the least, try to call every once in a while, even if only once every 6 months." He turned to the others, "I am busy, a few of the clans are getting into a disagreement and I don't want Clan Vrenshrrgn's leader Íorûnn to enter this room unannounced like last time just to meet everyone's favorite rider."

"Oh? You have an admirer Eragon?" Arya asked, almost teasingly."

Eragon kept his face straight but the tips of his ears turned slightly red. "Not at all, who'd be interested in a recluse like me?"

"The most powerful man just outside of Alagaesia, " Nasuada said, "I'm almost certain you are truly the world's most eligible bachelor."

Eragon coughed uncomfortably for a few seconds, then glared at Saphira when she let out a coughing chuffing chuckle. He was about to say something, then a distant roar sounded out, Eragon muttered something then spoke, "I'm sorry, it looks like the dragons have gotten up to something again…" a particularly loud crash caused everyone to wince, "barzûl!" Eragon cursed, "Darn! Saphira, let's go!" The mirror cut off as he left.

"Hmm, he sounds just as busy if not busier than me." Orik muttered, "Though that reminds me, I have work today, I'll leave you two ladies to your sports competition and poems, songs… and whatever else you elves do to pass the time." He nodded a goodbye as the mirror cut off, leaving Just Arya with her court and Nasuada with hers and Vulcan. After a few seconds of silence, one of the Elves in the background, who Vulcan recognized as Vanir, said a few things to the other elves, eventually shooing them out of the area. Arya looked to him, nodding in thanks, he simply bowed in the odd way of the elves, then turned to leave. Vulcan watched as on his end, the human mages, shooed away by members of the Du Vrangr, slowly filed out of the room. He was the last to leave, smiling ruefully as he did. Nasuada and Arya had a lot in common, they lost their sole parent in the war, became Queen of their respective nations, and, though somewhat controversial, had unfulfilled relationships with certain riders.

"Let's leave them to talk openly." He muttered to himself, turning to head towards his and Volund's resting quarters. However, he was alerted to a commotion just before the entrance to Nasuada's meeting room.

"But we must alert the queen!" A young guard said to an older, more annoyed-looking guard.

"She is in the middle of a meeting you fool, we cannot interrupt her."

"But, it may have to do with the incident." The younger guard retorted.

Before they could escalate the argument further Vulcan approached. "What are you talking about?"

The younger guard turned, nervous. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Lord Vulcan! We have been getting reports of individuals missing from the slums, children, and some adults of a few of those children!"

"And what does that have to do with anything!" The older guard snapped, "Dirty Slum dwellers have little to do with anything important unless you think that rabble somehow snuck into our residenti-"

"I'll make a judgment when I hear the full story, **thank you**…" Vulcan said dangerously, staring at the older guard hard until the man backed away. "Please, continue err…"

"J-jespen sir." The young man said nervously, "And thank you! Erm… as I was saying, the people have been missing and some of our light investigations led us to the sewers, the problem though is… when we checked things out, we found little evidence of the sewers, but we found… Urgal arrows…"

…

Faris tisked in frustration as he saw the crowd of guards about to leave barracks closest to the western slums he called home.

One of the guards spotted him, eying his tunic and weapons. "Kid? You're kinda late, the games already started, but I think the battles will begin tomorrow and the next day."

"I'm not here because of that, something horrible may be happening in the slums!"

"Yeah, we already know. A few orphans have gone missing, big deal, it happens every goddamn year. But now one of them was the grandchild of a minor noble, so we've g-"

"You're kidding right?!" Faris burst into anger, "Children are fucking missing and you don't even bother to look?!"

"Look, brat, maybe a few of them were your friends but…" The guard hesitated as he looked at Faris's angry red eyes, "Wait… you're that…"

"That what?" Another guard asked.

"It's that Faris brat! You know, the one that fuckin' burned all those people and became a shade!" He shouted angrily, backing up and cursing. The other guards moved into a bit of panic, backing up and unsheathing their weapons.

Faris rolled his eyes, "I don't have time for your bullshit, I think I know why they're missing."

"Oh?" The guards snickered, "And how the hell would you know? Your actions nearly cost us our jobs you know."

"Because I did faster in a month what should have been accomplished by you?!" Faris angrily responded, stepping forward. A guard feinted jabbing a spear at him, and he stood stock-still, letting it almost graze his face. "This is serious, there's a Ra'zaac in those sewers!" The guard's faces went slack-jawed. Faris looked at them, expecting, rage, disbelief, denial, cowardice, dismissal, suspicion, he didn't however expect laughter.

"Hahahaha! Yeah! Ra'zaac! Hahaahaha heheheehe, of course, Ra'zaac, I bet they flew into the city on top of dragons, spewing shit and locusts everywhere, yeah right kid." The soldier smirked, "Ra'zaac?! Pfft…" The guard didn't have enough time as Faris charged into him, jabbing him in the chest.

"I'm serious!"

"And where's your proof, right now, you seem nothing more than a deranged psychopath belting out ghost stories like some bratty moron seeking attention, why should we believe you?!"

_"Would you believe me then… human?"_ Both Faris and the group of Guards turned in surprise at the voice that reverberated in their heads as Minnie sat up, surrounded by a dozen cats. _"My lessers encountered a gnarled hand outside these smelly liquid litter boxes you call sewers, doubting the human pup is enough of an insult, as that information came from me, but do you also doubt my words?_ Her eyes flashed a dangerous violet, and a few of the soldiers muttered to themselves.

"We… if a werecat says this, we could somewhat take it seriously," Another guard said.

"What?! But that brat! They could be lying! Or he could be tricking us with magic or something equally-"

"Shut up and think for a second, the brat didn't say he wanted to lead us, all he said was that there was a Ra'zaac, the place is going to stink anyway, so better to take precautions, at the least, since we know a little of what to look out for, we don't need to be too worried. You!" He pointed to a guard. "Get over here Jespin, go warn the guards at the castle, we need to get mages in on this, everyone else? We need to enter those sewers, if we're on the lookout for Ra'Zaac, we'll be in huge trouble if they're anywhere near their mature states." The other guards looked at each other bitterly but began to grunt out agreements, eventually following after the first Guard who made his suggestions. "Oi, brat!" The Guard turned to look at Faris, who finally observed his brown eyes, brown hair, and freckled face, "You better not be taking us for fools, else this won't end with just an apology."

Faris nodded and began to run after them. Ventus had landed on his shoulder and hunkered down, Minnie for her part turned to her cats, which scattered back to their respective territories as she bounded after Faris and the Guards...

...

Venka let out a pained sigh, she and her friends had been running for hours, they had lost Bartholomew, who had surprisingly lasted a long time. She turned to her friends, the rest, except Seya, seemed as exhausted as she was, and by now seemed to have gotten over her secret-keeping, or at least, put it to the side while they were still running. To the opposite side, she glowered.

"Oh… feeling bad little girl? How about you quit," Said a breathless Cynthia, she and her three other knight apprentices had been making good time, all of them able to keep up with her and her friend's paces, though whilst also keeping an infuriatingly constant lead of only a few paces.

"Shut… up…" Venka responded, before immediately regretting wasting the lung capacity on speaking.

"You seem tired… I'll admit, you performed admirably, but you did… decent." Cynthia smirked, hiding her ragged breaking by only breathing through the nose. "But… you'll… lose, hah…" She sighed out.

When the race had started, all of them, knight apprentices and mage apprentices save Bartholomew and Seya, had been knocked down and half trampled by a group of their peers in both schools. As they got up, somewhat injured and winded, one student had called out: "Sorry! But we don't want any of you pricks getting a chance to hatch an egg! You think you're better than all of us!"

This inflaming remark pissed off the students enough to overlook their disagreements and race together, it took a while for them to recover enough to run without risk of injury, and they had a long race ahead of them. They had broken into dead sprints, one or two in the lead to break the wind for the others, switching in regular intervals to allow the others to draft behind them. Using this, they began to slowly overtake the other groups, who attempted to desperately cut them off or sprint to keep ahead. They made it to near the head of the pack, eventually splitting into their groups when encountering Bartholomew and Seya. Bartholomew for his part had made it through with luck, and Seya had demurely responded that anyone attempting to knock her down caught "a mysterious case of broken legs, a very contagious disease for the stupid".

At this point, a single runner stood ahead of them, a Surdan boy wearing mage clothing, neither group recognized him, but they were close to gaining on him.

"Hmph… Cynthia, you know, if you keep talking, you'll run out of air, I know I call you a blowhard, but you aren't a train, unless… well, you do kinda look like a train from behind."

"What's that supposed to mean? How the blazes do I look-" Cynthia gasped for air, her quick talking causing her to lag behind, which caused Manny to stumble and fall, scraping his shin. "Damn you!" She shouted, as her group slowed down to attend to Manny.

"That was kind mean Seya." Venka muttered, "especially if you aimed for them to trip like that."

"Yeah yeah." Seya laughed.

"I'm… a little… hah, confused." Morgan uttered, "How come, you aren't dead sprinting, you'd probably win even at a slightly higher than normal pace."

"Because I don't want to win." Seya uttered, "First of all, being a rider would take away my freedom to go anywhere I want, and I'd have to share my headspace 24/7, no thankyou. And I have all the magic I need." She smirked, "Unlike a certain black-haired pepper."

"Well, I'm sorry I don't have a lot of magic, it's not like we can all be special," Nya muttered.

Eventually, they heard quick pounding behind them, turning, they saw Johnathan, carrying Manny on his back, sprinting like there was a monster chasing him, quick behind him was Vern, sprinting with a look of utter desperation, and finally, behind Vern was Cynthia, anger on her face, holding a wicker stick and slapping the ground with it every few seconds, causing the knight apprentices to jump forward every few seconds. The Silver-Level mage apprentices began to pick up the pace, but for some reason lacked the speed they had.

Katya was the first to notice, "We're on a huge flat plain, and the wind!" There was an extremely strong headwind, enough that even as they ran they felt it trying to push them back, the Knight apprentices, on the other hand, were directly behind them using them as a shield from the wind, and began to pace themselves accordingly, keeping at the mage Apprentice's backs. Eventually, they reached the turning point, and with the tailwind, the Knight apprentices pulled ahead.

"Damnit!" Nya shouted, "They played us!"

"Well, you couldn't very well slow down…" Seya muttered matter-of-factly. "I'm surprised that kid's still ahead." She looked ahead at the Surdan boy, running with an even run, keeping an even pace. Eventually, the knight apprentices caught up to the boy, who turned to them and muttered a few things, as he did, they noticed Cynthia spit and slow down, without her egging them on, they also began to slow down. The mages quickly caught up then overtook them.

Venka turned to look at Cynthia but saw her face was both angry and bright red. She wondered what the boy had said, but had her answer when they caught up.

He had uncharacteristically odd-looking eyes, an almost glowing gold, his hair, while curly, very black and was close to his head, shaped to his skull. He broke into a smile as he noticed Venka's staring, then turned his eyes to Nya, Katya, and Seya as well, before uttering. "Holy shit, y'all are prettier than that last one…"

…


	17. Chapter 17

"What the…" Venka murmured at the strange boy's remarks. The Surdan boy wore a smile on his face, which grew wider and wider, at the moment he kept pace with them.

"And who the hell are you to be talking to any of us like that!" Nya remarked angrily.

"Me?" The boy sprinted ahead with alarming speed, enough to shock everyone, even Seya.

"Hey… we've been at this for 3 hours, right? And he's been ahead of the pack for so long, no one to catch the headwind, yet, he can still sprint like that?" Katya muttered.

As they looked ahead, the boy turned, jogging backwards, whilst still jogging he raised his right hand, placing two fingers on his forehead and stretched his other hand as if reaching back towards the group. "I am, THE MARVELOUS, THE STUPENDOUS, THE ATHLETIC!" He back-flipped twice, landing gracefully and continuing his backward jogging, "THE ENCHANTING, THE BEAUTIFUL," he winked, "The Astounding Blue Beast of Lightning, Wind, and Fire, Donovan Sarkany Ryujin-Ja o !"

"...What kind of name is that?" Morgan muttered.

"Oh, non-non, mon amie, It's a noble, regal name, of great importance." Donovan winked, "I, first of my generation, will be the greatest mage in history, greater than all the elves, all the riders, and even more powerful than dragons or Shades!"

"That's… that's an aspiration right there," Morgan muttered.

"He kinda reminds me of how you were when we first met," Venka said.

"I'm nothing like that loser!"

"Please! Don't compare me to that moron!"

Donovan and Morgan yelled at the same time, they then glared at each other. Donovan again broke into a smile, "Anyways, as I was saying, as the future greatest mage, any girl worth their salt would lay at my feet, so… ladies, are you at least half as smart as you're pretty?"

Nya's answered by sprinting forward, planting her foot on Donovan's chest, knocking him over. "Ass! What's wrong with you?!"

Donovan burst out laughing, "Did I get under your skin? Get on your nerves? I can slip under some other things… if you know what I mean."

Seya added to Nya's rebuttal with a savage kick to Donovan's side. He shouted in pain as his arm broke. "...Creep." She muttered.

The rest of the group jogged away. "That was… a bit harsh," Venka muttered as Seya and Nya caught up.

"Sometimes the student mages get a little too big on the britches, entitlement, gold, and magic can do that to people," Seya muttered light-heartedly. "Sometimes, in order to really break it to them that you aren't interested, you have to… break something. He should be fortunate to get away with an arm and not that thing between his legs."

Morgan winced. "Yeesh, Seya, you've not…"

"No, but Nya and Katya both have, Katya almost killed someone once."

They all turned to look at Nya, then Katya. Katya shrugged, "He tried to drug me, besides, if I hadn't beaten the tar out of him, my mother would have actually killed him, and death would have been too good for any piece of trash who thinks like that."

"Drugging you? My god, only an idiot would do that! My goal is to simply woo!" Donovan announced loudly, slinging his non-broken arm around Katya.

The group slowed to a stop, with every member shoving the cocky mage apprentice away.

"**Leave, us, ALONE…"** Nya growled.

Donovan raised his hands, "Hey hey, alright, you don't like being touchy-feely, I get it, so… what, candlelit dinners, music… food?"

"She's not interested, I'm not interested, none of us are interested, what part of leave us alone don't you understand!?" Venka finally burst out, angry.

"Well, you haven't punched me," Donovan began, "So I probably still ha-" he was interrupted by a quick punch by Nya. Wheeling back, he massaged his jaw, "Well… I guess I see your point." He gave them a sardonic smirk. "Well, good luck on your run." He burst into an alarming sprint.

"Wait…" Nya looked around; they were off the correct race path. "That… that bastard! He got under our skin! He aimed for this! Led us off the normal road!"

"Calm down Nya." Katya murmured, "We worry about him when we win." She looked up at Seya, "Seya, I know you aren't interested in winning and getting a chance to see that egg. But that… asshole, I'd have a bad taste in my mind if he was anywhere near an egg."

Seya looked at them quietly, then nodded. "See you guys at the finish line." She turned towards the quickly shrinking figure of Donovan, then, gritting her teeth, burst into a headlong sprint, rapidly catching up…

…

"Alright men, I know this will stink to high hell, but I need you all to be ready for anything, several people have disappeared, and we'll be on the lookout for anyone in there, the highest priority will of course be Linus Wilkons, child of the noble Lord Bradley Wilkons, remember, we'll be looking for his silver insignia."

Faris watched the guards, they had faces shifting from disgust to determination, a few of them glanced back at him, trading his even stair with a plethora of different expressions, some disgust, some dismissal, some hate, some pity, and a lot of fear. Faris subconsciously touched his forehead, and cursed to himself when he saw his red hair, he forgot he had washed it. Though there was little time to regret it, as the smell of raw sewage assaulted his nostrils, nearly making him puke. He wrapped a cloth around his face tightly and nodded to first Ventus, who flew away, and to Minnie, who had already turned and fled by the time they were within a dozen feet of the entrance of the sewer.

_Be… safe._

Faris nodded, entering the sewers. It was a dank, musty air, even discounting the smell, it was difficult to breathe. Several soldiers wretched left and right. Eventually, the soldier who galvanized the rest, in the beginning, sighed, waving his arms then muttering a few words in the ancient language. The air around the soldiers began to clear. Faris turned his head sharply to the freckled man.

"What?" He gave a wry smile, "You think everyone with some inkling of the ancient language comes from that school of yours? The majority of members of the Du Vrangr Gata wouldn't even qualify to be bronze ranked mage apprentices, so, those outside the school get in any way we can."

"I'm not a mage anymore."

"Yes, I'm aware." The guards looked around, one pointing to a furrow in the muck.

"Sir, these look like footsteps, of varying sizes and quality." A guard called out.

"Several people have passed by this location, let's follow the trail." He called out. The guards quickly marched behind him.

"So… you're their leader?"

"Vice," The guard said, "I know a bit of healing, quality of life, and such, help a man's bad back, fix a popped shoulder, arrow to the kneecaps? You earn a man's loyalty, fix his wife's toothache, fix his daughter's nose she broke as a child? You earn their devotion."

"So, you believe in the utility of magic?" Faris asked.

"Well, we have it, it can be a finer instrument than even that made by the most meticulous of craftsmen, and it's capable of evil and good, depending on the user. I believe in being as strict as possible with it, even to the point of limiting words that can be used in the ancient language for everyday living, it's not our language we speak normally, and whilst we use it to affirm the truthfulness of our statements, at the moment, people don't fully believe, know, or trust in that language." The guard smirks, "I assume you believe in the full use of magic?"

"No," Faris answered, the guard gave him a surprised look. "Don't be surprised, the ancient language requires someone to be truthful at all times, so, elves invent ways to lie without lying. They will speak in half-truths, omit information, and answer to completely different questions, while keeping a level of stupid decorum, maybe as a society humans can reach that, but such passive-aggressiveness is harmful to a society marred with the desire to live for tomorrow."

"You sound like one of those codgy philosophers." The guard chuckled.

"I probably do." Faris sighed, "But it's difficult, I want to be nuanced in my goals, and include as many people as possible."

"Oh? What sort of aspiration do you seek?" The guard asked, somewhat amused.

"Utopia." Faris answered resolutely, "I want to save the people of the slums, help them pave the way to change their destiny, then spread that to every village of this nation, every city of this kingdom, and every kingdom in this world."

"Seams dangerous," The guard remarked, "There are more than a few people who feel legitimately threatened by the rising of the status of the people of the slums, and of peasants in general."

"The nobles you mean." Faris nodded, "Yeah, I know, as long as they don't try to stop me, I won't hurt them."

"Oh? You'd force your ideals against them? What if the queen was against you." The guard fingered the pommel of his sword.

"Then you should probably kill me now." Faris began, "I have three measures of engagement when it comes to how to deal with someone, their age, their status, and their past and current actions."

"I feel that'd be four things."

"Your past has as important a bearing as what you do currently." Faris remarked, "And I think it's stupid and unfair to believe that just because an individual has "changed", we shouldn't take into context what they've done before. This critic of the past isn't just of people, but of society and culture as a whole."

"Really? How so."

"I know you are just humoring me, I'm constantly judged for my actions and for my appearance, even if I rail against the unfairness of it, it is still a part of who I am," Faris remarked. "Wait… hold on." He paused, scanning the end of the long underground pipe way, the smell was thickest there, and the tunnel split down two paths.

"There are two paths." A soldier remarked.

"Yeah, I noticed that with my eyes." Another soldier muttered, "It's all about which one we need to take."

Faris looked at the prints on the floor. "The fresher footprints are on the left path." His voice echoed, we might find someone if we go there." The guards looked at each other, but the freckled one nodded.

"It's a good bet."

"Wait… wait dammit!" A guard shouted, "Why are you being so chummy with this…" He looked at Faris, "Thing, look, look at his hair and eyes, they said he turned into a Shade, he's either a monster or fool attempting to scare people."

"I am neither." Faris muttered, "And that's not rel-"

"I heard when he was at a hospital he killed a man, made his heart rupture just by being around him for a week, and when they found them when the old man died, his blood was on the boy's lips." Another guard remarked.

Faris had to hold back his urge to shout in anger. "We are here to rescue people, I-"

"And why would a monster like you care?!" The guard shouted angrily, "A fuckin' shade thinks he can care about people? You were one of those mage faction bastards, killed a bunch of people, burned them alive, and you think you can 'save the slums?' Those bastards you burned were slum trash too right? Slum trash beating down on other slum trash, everything could rot for all I-" Faris brushed past the other guards, slipping out his dagger and holding it to the man's nose in a fluid motion.

"The only reason I tolerate your bullshit is because people's lives are at stake, if you fucking think so little of people that you write them all off, why the fuck would you care if I killed slum trash?" He cocked his head, looking as the other guards held their weapons at him. "You bastards are feckless trash, I'm 12, yet I'm riling you up like this? Because I killed rapists, murderers, and smugglers? Because I'm supposed to be some sort of demon, who if I was as evil as you pretended to think I was, and actually had the abilities you ascribe, would have killed you, already."

The guard gulped, then stuttered, "S-See! See! He's trying to kill me!"

Faris rolled his eyes, "I am speaking to you in a somewhat even tone, my knife has not drawn any blood, and your head's between your neck and you aren't missing any digits, though… I don't think you could be any uglier even if I cut you up."

"Faris… calm down." The freckled guard began carefully.

"Or what? You'll kill me? Demonize me?" Faris didn't turn his head, keeping them evenly on the guard he was threatening. "The 'middle authority' in this city is driving me mad, and-" His eyes cut to the side, he pulled back his arm then whipped it forward, slinging his knife forward and past the guards. Almost immediately a guard punched him in the face and another attempted to spear him. Barely avoiding the spear, Faris pointed a finger forward. "Someone's there!" Most of the guards barely registered his words, and the one he threatened ignored him, reaching for him until an arrow struck his arm.

"AAAARGH!" The guard screamed, falling over as the impact of the bow hit his shoulder. The guards scrambled and turned, in the distant gloom, a lone figure dressed in filth-caked rags that covered their figure wielded a bow.

"Surrender yourself!" The freckled guard demanded.

The figure responded with 5 more arrows in quick succession, some striking the guards in non-vital locations like below the leg and the forearm, others bouncing off the walls and causing sparks. In one such spark, everything was illuminated for one short second, and Faris's eyes widened, the arrow which struck the guard, was the same kind of arrow that killed the dwarves. He got up quickly, doing his best to be inconspicuous as he inched towards the front of the guard unit, who had by this point gathered their shield bearers to the front. After waiting for one last volley of arrows, Faris vaulted over the lead guard, using the man's shoulder as a ledge, then carried his momentum forward, keeping low and placing his buckler forward. In his other hand he took out a small cylindrical object with a hard leather grip, the object had two openings, one of which was capped, and two levers on the grip, resembling the brake levers on a bike or motorcycle.

As Faris closed in on the archer, he noticed the figure sling their bow and take out a short sword, swinging down at an obscenely fast pace. If not for Faris predicting the downswing and angling his buckler he would have been cleaved in two, even then, he was bounced to the side with obscene levels of force. The figure charged towards him but backed up as the first of the guards reached him. In a quick swing, their assailant knocked down the guard. Faris pounded his fist into the ground, getting up and charging forward. Pressing the first lever, the second opening popped out, and a dark black liquid spilled out on the figure's cloak. Almost immediately Faris switched to the second lever, rapid clicking filled the air as his short baton let out several sparks, igniting the oil he just spilled on the enemy. As the flames engulfed the figures cloak Faris didn't hear the screams or shouts of a man or woman, but rather a raspy, hissing noise as the figure backed up and ripped off its cloak, revealing the Ra'zac. Faris tossed more oil around, coating grime in the stone walls and setting it on fire, illuminating the gloom with a hellish light.

"_A child…?"_ The Ra'zac cocked his head in confusion. "_Why… here…?"_

Faris froze, from what he remembered, Ra'zac were duplicitous and flesh-hungry, while they would flee from a large group of soldiers they wouldn't hesitate to unleash a killing blow. Before he could respond the Ra'zac screamed in pain as a spear pierced its side. Retreating from that spot it slinked further into the darkness and began firing arrows at rapid procession.

"_COME NO FURTHER! LEAVE US ALONE!"_

"Leave us alone?" Faris muttered, "who's 'we'?" The rate of arrows began to slow down, and Faris began to get up, behind the guards again. He looked for the lead guard, the freckled one, and began slipping through again as he found the man. "Catch the Ra'zac."

"You want us to catch that thing?!" The guard retorted. "We'll have trouble even killing it."

"I can give you words in the ancient language." Faris began.

"That's against the mage laws, you can't share your knowledge with non-students."

Faris shrugged, "I'm not a mage anymore."

After a few seconds, the guard nodded, "Fine, we'll try, my name is Niro."

Faris raised an eyebrow, "Your name is Niro?"

"Yes, it wouldn't be fair if you didn't know my name," Niro smirked. "Alright then kid, illuminate me."

The guards began to attack the Ra'zac with a more combined effort. The Ra'zac parried and dodged their blows, striking out at and knocking down guards left and right, but it was not without injuries, an especially severe wound in the arm caused the creature to click rapidly several times and slice down with killing intent, finally slashing a soldier's handoff. The soldier screamed in pain and the others backed up, leaping over a kneeling soldier, Faris charged forward, sword swinging and buckler in front of him. The Ra'zac batted him away with ease. The Ra'zac felt something in his hand tug and turned to see Faris, string connected from the buckler to the Ra'zac's arm. The ra'zac raised its sword to cut the string but was unable to move. Its compound eyes flickered as they scanned its many lenses, resting on an exhausted-looking soldier with brown hair and freckles who had his hands raised towards the Ra'zac. Before it could respond, Faris charged forward, more string and rope in his hands. He worked quickly, binding its claws in rags, then tying them behind the creature's back, then tying more rope and twine around the creature's arms and legs until it was bundled tighter than a caterpillar in a cocoon, with only its face exposed.

"Ugh! Letta!" Niro groaned, dropping his hands and falling to his knees. The Ra'zac began struggling as the magic binding his movements ended but found the rope impossible to break out of.

"No use." Faris began, "we'll have to cut the rope to free you, now, who-" he was cut off by the cheering of the guards, who pumped their weapons in the air. "Yeesh…"

"_Release me! You won't take them back! They are safer here!" _The ra'zac hissed.

"Safer?" Faris said loudly, "Who are you talking abou-", Faris was interrupted by another loud shout. He glanced up to see the guard he threatened bearing his sword down on the Ra'zac. "HEY!" He shouted, glancing the blow away with his buckler.

"What! Is the monster going to try and save the other monster!" The guard shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. He moved to thrust again, but another guard stopped him.

"Wark! Stop." The guard commanded.

"Let's just get rid of both of them while we have the chance!" The guard, Wark, screamed. "That brat held me at knifepoint, and the other monster shot me in the shoulder! He also fucking killed all our men!"

"Well…" another guard muttered quietly, as he slowly limped up, "except for my severed hand, most of us aren't in too bad of shape."

"You aren't helping, Nog!" The Wark shouted in rage.

"Yeah, and you think you're helping Wark?" The guard muttered, "Yeah, shades are terrifying, and the kid burned a ton of people to death, you can fear him all you want for doing that, well, Wark, who's your hero?"

"That's different." Wark averted his eyes.

"Stronghammer slew nigh 200 men, but you idolize him don't you?"

"They were enemy soldiers working for a tyrannical despot!" Wark shouted. "They burned villages!"

"And the men I killed were child kidnappers and exploiters." Faris retorted angrily.

"Well, it's fucking different! You aren't one of us!" Wark shouted, "Roran was a soldier of our kingdom, this is a magic-using bastard!"

An awkward silence filled the sewer. Faris stood up and looked at the Ra'zac, "You mentioned someone or a group of someones who were safer down here, who are they?"

"What? Have no words to refute me monster?" Wark jeered at Faris.

Faris ignored him, staring at the ra'zac and propping him into a more comfortable sitting position.

"_I… will not betray them."_

"You have my word, that if you have not killed any people, that you and whoever you are protecting will not be killed."

"_Promise me that they will be safe regardless of my fate."_

Faris turned to the guard, then back to the Ra'Zac. He nodded, "I promise." Dragging up the Ra'zac, he adjusted the rope around its legs, allowing it to semi-shuffle across the muck, leading them to an uncanny surprise.

"Th-these…" Wark began, looking at the myriad of young faces looking back at him. "Are these, All the children?!"

It was a well lit, large room with a dry floor, in one corner of the room sat a Roaring fire, warming everything, elsewhere were myriads of small candles, surrounding the candles were hundreds of different glass shards of different size and color, hanging from the ceiling by a long string. Along the walls of the room were several boxish divots, large enough to hold an adult, in each one was a bed, and in some of them were children, sleeping, awake, but restful and unhurt. Milling about the room, eating, and playing, were other children. Faris sniffed, the room was much better smelling than any other location in the sewers, looking up, he saw several holes in the ceiling, likely connecting this odd section of the sewers to outside ventilation.

The guards began fanning the room. "I found the young lord!" Nog called, pointing to a child in the center of the room, about 7 years old.

"Who are you folk?" He asked in confusion, "Are you from mum and pa? Here to fetch me? Why don't you have my favorite servant?! Come back when you have all those!"

A guard turned to the Ra'zac. "And what is this supposed to be?!" He shouted in an accusatory tone, "did you gather these children to eat them?! Like chickens in a coop?!"

A child charged the guard tackling him in the gut. "Leave Rags alone!"

"R-rags?!" The guard shouted in confusion. The children by this point all turned to see that the Ra'zac was tied up, and a few of them began surrounding the guards, attempting to slip past them to free the Ra'zac.

Before they could act, Faris took out his knife and sliced the rope off. The Ra'zac got up and hugged the first child to reach it.

"_I'm fine Ronny…"_

The guards stood dumbfounded. Wark twisted his face in anger, but before he could angrily move forward Niro raised a hand to stop him.

"Where are your parents? I know some of you are orphans, or your parents are around, but some of you had parents who went missing about the same time."

The kids got quiet, one finally answered. "They went to go to work."

"...work?" Faris asked.

"Yeah, most of our parents… they were…"

"They were all awful," An older kid, sleeping in one of the cots, sat up. "Drunk, angry all the time, beating us, none of us want to go back, so good riddance to them, now they're working, and we get food, and clothes, and toys, and warmth. Then some big kid doctors come and help us if any of us are sick."

"Surely not all of them were bad." Faris reasoned.

"I thought you could understand…" The kid scoffed.

A soldier grabbed a child by the shirt. "Where the hell are all the people who came after you?"

The older child who spoke before got up, with other older children rushing the guard. Before they could get into an altercation Faris took out his baton, pressing both levers he swung into the air as a wave of fire burst out before dissipating, this caused both groups to stop.

"Please, let the child go, and calm down, we need to speak rationally, lest we miss any information." The guard let the child go, who ran into the large crowd of children, who had by this point surrounded the recovering Ra'zac. After a few seconds, he turned to the guards. "I don't know most of your names, you all know mine, but I don't need to know most of your names." He turned to the kids, "as for you kids, I don't know any of you personally, which leads me to believe you come from a different area of the slums from where I am. If you don't know, I am a former mage apprentice named Faris. Please pick a representative to speak for you. The guards shall do so as well, and we can exchange all the questions and answers we need to till we all die of boredom. Otherwise, if this turns violent, people will definitely get hurt."

The guards turned to Niro, and the older child that spoke up walked forward. He had a deep tan and gray hair, his eyes were equally gray, making him look older than he was, he glared at Faris, then at Niro.

"I am vice-captain Niro, we were sent here to rescue Young Lord Linus."

"I didn't need rescuing, I ran away!" Linus called out.

"... Be that as it may, that was our task." Niro continued. "Ra'zac are dangerous, and were used by Galbatorix to feast on the common folk, the fact one is here is troubling, I don't know what sorcery it cast to trick all of you, but I f-"

"If by sorcery, you mean food, clothes, and shelter," the gray-eyed boy began, his frown deepening, "then yes, he cast 'sorcery' on us, how about you take your noble brat and leave us alone?"

"Brat?!" Linus began, shaking in anger to the point that his blond curls bobbed up and down. "I have been civil, and polite, you are the rude one you… you vagabond!"

Faris ignored the noble, looking at the Ra'zac. "You gave them food? So, you don't eat humans?"

The ra'zac made an odd series of clicks before speaking. "_Eat… humans, the children...never, the food… I eat the rats… the wild birds… not the children, protect… them."_

Niro breathed out from his nose, grunted, then spoke, "Are you serious?"

"Are we expected to believe that?!" Wark shouted angrily. "I say we slay that thing and leave with Linus, these brats can decide to follow after us if they want."

Many of the kids moved in between the soldiers and the ra'zac again.

Niro gently spoke, "don't any of you miss your parents?"

"Please, we're all orphans, our parents are either dead or they abandoned us, the few who didn't have abandoned parents ran away from home, else we'd be sold into slavery."

"Slavery is illegal." Niro began roughly.

"Oh? Is it? Yeah, the word, slavery is illegal, but household servant? It's not." The boy began, "Let me ask you, how is it that nobles have all these young servants? Are they simply the children of their servants? Do those children get paid?"

Faris perked up at this, "Which nobles do this? Can you guys tell me?"

Wark interrupted, "They feed and clothe you bastards, what would you brats do otherwise if those nobles didn't take you in? Resort to thieving, trash our streets…" He spit on the floor. "In fact, I imagine you stole all the food and clothing you have."

"_I did not steal… I was given." The Ra'zac began._

"Who gave you the food and clothing." Faris began, interrupting Wark's angry retort.

"We did~!" A voice called out in a sing-songy tone. Faris turned, alarmed, and cursed as vines erupted from seemingly everywhere and nowhere, grabbing unto him and the soldiers, pinning them to the walls, ceiling, floor, or simply suspending them midair.

Walking into the room were two teen girls, both with white hair. The oldest had shoulder-length hair, cropped bangs, and an arrogant smirk on her face, she stared at Faris with her deep red eyes.

"We meet again, garbage," Alpha smirked.

Faris attempted to pull against the vines.

"Don't try too hard." Gamma called out, her green eyes glowing, "they have…"

Faris winced in pain as he felt several needles poke into his arms, several soldiers also shouted in alarm as the vines erupted thorns which pierced the men.

"Why are you two here?!" Faris shouted, enraged by their presence.

Ignoring him, Gamma walked up to the Ra'zac, helping him up. "Ah, there we go… Rags right? That's what the kids call you? Well, anyways, we are glad you are unhurt, and that these 'bad guys' got captured."

"Bad guys?!" Niro shouted angrily. Immediately, an oppressive feeling filled the guards' minds, Faris felt it as well and began to fight back with all of his might against the mental onslaught of the enhanced children. Many soldiers passed out, some were gasping for air, others held still. Niro, for his part, was able to eke out tired speech, "what… are you…? We aren't… evil… serve… the city…"

"Oh please." Alpha smirks, most of you enjoy being able to step all over the weak, these kids would have died under your 'guard', but they get to be productive otherwise now."

"What?!" Faris shouted.

"Hmmm…" Alpha began, "Gamma, the doctor stated our spies reported that Faris lost his magic right?"

"Yes, he did."

"He's got a decent mental defense going on… I wonder… jierda."

Faris screamed in pain as his ankle bent, the bones and joints snapping and separating.

"Oh, that took more energy than normal," Alpha commented. She smiled serenely at Faris as he looked up at her, his face plastered with sweat and his eyes slightly watering from the pain. "You're about to cry?" She smiled wider. "Good, scream, beg for mercy."

Faris's reply was to click a few buttons on his igniting baton, which lit the vines wrapping him up on fire. The two enhanced children watched on in amusement as Faris burned himself, and smirked as he landed when the vines could no longer sustain him. Just as his feet touched the ground more vines began to wrap around him again, but Faris had gained enough time in his fall to reach for his pistol, aim it at Gamma, and fire his prepared shot. Gamma collapsed as the bullet tore a hole in her skull, and part of the oppressive force bearing down on their minds lessened. Shaking free from the vines, Faris and the few conscious guards moved back as quickly as they could. Alpha looked at Faris with renewed interest.

"Interesting, the maggot can actually leave a stinging bite." Before he could reply, she sent him flying into the wall, he nearly blacked out, and as he struggled to get up, he saw Alpha dismantling the guards with the ease of a tank through a field of paper cranes. The children began to scream in fear at the brutality of it, and Alpha turned to them, muttering words in the ancient language causing all of them to collapse.

"_The… the children?!"_ Rags shouted.

"They're asleep." Alpha turned her attention to the three guards still standing. "Well, you seem impressive." She moved her eyes across Niro, Wark, and Nog.

"How dare you.." Niro hissed, tightening the grip on his short sword. He had to let go of his spear when Alpha began to lift both it and him up into the air with just one hand, only to watch her spear two of his comrades.

"Oh please, if you are truly angry, perhaps you should defeat me then," Alpha smirked. The guards charged her.

Faris attempted to get up and assist them but slipped on something on the floor. Looking down, he saw his palms, slick with his blood. His heart began to pound and he began to feel light-headed as the adrenaline could no longer hide the pain he was in. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out in pain, looking for anything to pull him off the ground.

He found a snapped spear, and grabbing one of the bits, began to try and pull himself up like a walking stick. His arms wobbled and he cursed in pain. Giving up, he instead reached for his pistol, groaning as he found it across the room, he began to crawl to it.

The three guards, Niro especially, fought admirably, Niro had a high enough ranking that he was given a crystal that slightly improved his physical ability during the battle, but even then he was like a toddler facing a giant as he swung at Alpha.

"Okay, I'm bored." Alpha sighed, sticking her index finger into the forehead of Wark, killing him instantly, turning to Nog, she set him on fire.

Turning to Faris, she smirked, "I recalled you set this guy's previous leader on fire, so, I thought it would be fitting."

Niro screamed in rage, unleashing as many deadly combinations in the ancient language as he could, swinging his blade in tandem. Alpha's eyes lit up in interest.

"Oh, you have magic, but you aren't one of those ridiculous robbed mages, so you must be trash at that too." She blocked his attacks and endured his spells with ease, smiling as Niro collapsed, cold and lifeless. "See, forgot the most important rule of magic, if you don't have the energy, the spell will kill you."

Faris grabbed and reloaded his pistol, firing upon Alpha's chest, the bullet caused her blood to spurt out, causing her to fall back. Capitalizing on this, Faris rushed over, donning spiked gauntlets and punching Alpha in every vital area he could see, throwing his weight into his punches. His own body protested as he moved, and blood began to seep faster from his body, but he was desperate. After a few seconds, Alpha grabbed his neck.

"That was it? No tricks? No surprises? Was that really your best?" Faris smirked even as he was choking. After a few more seconds Alpha dropped him, face twisting into a frown as her wounds healed at a slower rate. "Ah, seithr oil." She kicked Faris, breaking his left arm. After a quick chant, her body began to heal rapidly, turning to Gamma, she kicked the enhanced child in the arm. "Get the hell up."

After a few seconds, Gamma's vines raised, wrapping around and lifting her up. Gamma smiled, spitting out the bullet Faris shot her with.

"He's got new tricks." Gamma offered.

"He needed at least that to hurt us, besides, his large weapon was better, the one he used to defeat those mages." Alpha retorted.

"Would that have beaten you?" Gamma quipped.

"Of course not." Alpha sighed, "so, how long would you have been lazing around there Gamma?"

"As long as you were going to waste with weaklings." Gamma retorted.

Faris threw several things at their feet. They looked down to see origami balls.

"What...paper?" Alpha began, "What's that gonna-" she was cut off by Faris tossing his igniting baton at their feet, the oil hit the paper, the sparks going off and setting off the soldier powder in the balls.

Faris covered his face as the explosion rang out, knocking him back somewhat. As he looked around, his heart fell. "The children?!" He realized, cursing, he had forgotten about them in the conflict, looking around, he reloaded his pistol, which was incredibly hard with only one usable hand. As the smoke began to clear, he saw the vines had moved to protect all of the children, unfortunately, the guards in the vicinity were not protected, Faris felt bile gathering in his throat as he turned to the origin of the dust cloud. Emerging from the smoke, with only slightly singed clothes was Alpha and Gamma. Faris fired at Alpha, who casually moved her hand in front of the bullet, it didn't even reach her body, stopping at her wards.

"You really are full of surprises Epsilon." Alpha smirked, "That was almost as much force as a punch you threw us when you became a shade." She smiled, "well, at least, other than the subjects, the doctor will have an interesting tool to examine."

Faris in response crushed his gun with his gauntlet.

Alpha just smiled wider. "You would have made an excellent family member Epsilon, just behind me in perfection."

"Fuck you…" Faris muttered darkly, clutching his side.

"So, how do we kill him?" Gamma asked, moving her vines to entangle Faris. "Dismemberment? Quartering? Defenestration?"

"What? Alpha asked, "What the hell is defenestration?"

"Toss him out a window," Gamma smirked, flicking her fingers to move the vines closer.

He couldn't fight as the vines wrapped around his body again, suspending him helplessly into the air, only to hear deep booming laughter and his heartbeat growing louder. "Shut up…" Faris muttered. "Stop laughing."

"Ooh, we better kill him fast, he's already lost enough blood to hallucinate," Gamma called out.

Alpha ignored her, walking up to Faris and caressing his cheek. "You've gotten older, pity…" she slid her hand down his face to his neck and began to wrap her fingers around it, squeezing tighter and tighter.

The pounding and laughter in Faris's head as he struggled for air got louder and louder, drowning out all of his thoughts, all his pain, all his fear. Eventually, he could feel nothing except great exhaustion, giving in to it, he closed his eyes, slumping into the vines.

Alpha continued to squeeze harder, disappointed Faris hadn't made a single gagging sound. "Is this really all you-" She was interrupted by Faris moving his hands to her wrist, gripping it with enough force to make her frown. Faris slowly opened his eyes, the pale, colorless light replaced with a deep red, almost as fiery as the sunset. With an inhuman roar, Faris kicked forward, launching Alpha backwards, she bounced off the thorn wall as Gamma moved to attack Faris. Without turning to look, Faris leapt into the air, reaching the ceiling and pushing himself out of the area into the center of the room.

"Oh… I remember this look." Gamma smiled nervously, "I knew we should have just killed you."

She looked at Faris, no, Tartarus, as he glanced at his limbs then felt his strands of hair, closing his eyes, he looked at Gamma, then at Alpha. "You really are interesting…" he smirked.

"Oh? Thanks?" Gamma began.

"I wasn't talking to either of you…" Tartarus extended his right hand and stabbed himself in the chest. As his blood spilled unto the floor, a deep, rhythmic booming sound began to echo across the room, emanating from the Shadling. As his blood began to drip, he got paler and thinner, as if he was being sucked dry. The blood that dripped from his chest was tinged green, and as it began to spread, words in the ancient language began to spread across the room, written in his blood and spreading out until it covered the walls, floor, and ceiling. His body, now almost wraith-like, turned to one of the dead guards. Smiling, he cut the man open and began to drink his blood.

Gamma held her hand to her mouth in disgust, and even Alpha frowned at the site.

"Forgive me." Tartarus muttered, as he tossed the body to the side, "but I needed to replenish my blood, luckily, there's a hole in my stomach, and all the bile already left, so as my body heals…"

"We don't need or care for your reasonings, and we don't care about the fates of those weaklings," Alpha smirked.

"Again, I was not talking to you." Tartarus picked up Niro's short sword, twirling it a few times and turning to face the two enhanced children. "Alright…" He charged forward...


	18. Chapter 18

Seya sprinted at what she considered to be moderate speeds, zooming past the leaders of the pack and even past Cynthia's team.

"Sorry! I'll have to pull ahead." Was all she said as she ran.

John could only stare in disbelief before bursting out laughing. Cynthia angrily scowled and urged her team to move faster.

Seya had time to think to herself, feeling the wind flow through her hair and buffet her face and body as she ran. The only sounds being the wind whipping and whooshing in her ears and her feet pounding on the ground. Eventually, she began to hear a similar rapid tapping, looking ahead, she saw Donovan, his running elegant and natural, almost like a deer striding through a glen. Shaking her head at this, Seya slowly overtook Donovan. He turned his head, nearly flinching as he saw her catching up. Smiling, he asked, "Oh, so you really, really, don't want that date huh…"

Seya ignored him, inching past him as she sprinted along. To her surprise, he began to keep pace.

"I'll have you know women don't enjoy men being this forward," Seya muttered, picking up speed slightly.

"Haha! That's unfortunate, I'm quite persistent. And the last time I took a back seat in romance, I lost my fiance." Donovan laughed as he picked up the pace, remaining close behind Seya.

"Well, wasn't she fortunate then for that breakup."

"I wouldn't say that…" Donovan's voice rose to a playful tone, "After a~ll, she's dead!"

Seya didn't speak for a while, before answering, "And how am I supposed to answer that?"

Donovan simply laughed, "Ah! I knew it, you're a bit like me. You don't really care about other people."

Seya swung her fist at Donovan with enough force to break his nose, knocking him back. After observing him haughtily, she turned and continued to sprint. Towards the finish line, his words left her irritated.

"I'm not like you at all, you reject…" She muttered angrily.

_~ How dare he! I didn't want to be this. I was dying and this was a lifeline, but it turned me into a monster!_ These thoughts echoed in her head as a memory flashed in her head.

_Seya looked at her concerned father. At that time, Lord Jaya was only known as Durant. The noble house he came from had lost its standing in the empire 4 decades ago, and he had only been a middling mage in the Empire's academy and forces. He proved himself good at magical research, and too valuable to be put unto the task of discovering the "NAME". But that was also more than a decade ago, the Empire had fallen, and Galbatorix had been slain by the Riders and by the combined efforts of the elves, dwarves, and human rebels. There was a new queen, and she, with the help of the Rider Eragon, had offered a way to free all who surrendered from their oath to Galbatorix. Lord Jaya, who's sickly wife was the most important thing on his mind, had apparently readily surrendered all his knowledge and had his oath recanted readily. He had then devoted himself to this new kingdom as a diligent mage and researcher. At least, that is what he told his daughter when she was younger._

"_Are you sure this is going to work Mendel?" Jaya asked with trepidation as he looked at a mage with soft brown hair and large spectacles._

"_Of course, I spent years researching it, and I have all the notes from Galbatorix's best mages, we'll be able to save your daughter, in fact, she'll be stronger than ever."_

_The three of them were in a dark room, the only lights being several enchanted crystal orbs that glowed in different colors and intensity. Seya was inside a large glass tube, submerged in a liquid, for some reason, despite there not being an air pocket, she was able to breathe, it had at first been uncomfortable, all the water in her lungs moving in and out filled her with pain at first, but at the moment, even though it felt uncomfortable, it no longer hurt. She reached out her hand to the edge of the glass, her father, smiling, reached his hand out to hers. Perhaps it was simply an illusion, but she felt like she could feel his warmth from the outside._

"_Don't worry my daughter, I will save you."_

_Seya had been sick, she had been sick since she turned 3, the mages couldn't figure out what happened, all they knew, and all she knew, was that her mom had been really sick too, and just after she was born, her mom died._

_While on a hospital bed, she had once looked up at her dad. Jaya used to smile, he smiled sadly sometimes, and happily at others, but he always smiled to let her know she would be alright. He hadn't smiled in a long time._

"_Daddy…" she asked, "Am I going to die?"_

"_Oh… my little night sky, no… you won't daddy will find a way to cure you, and you won't feel sick anymore." Jaya looked down at his daughter, his eyes bloodshot as he did his best to give a facsimile of a smile._

"_But… mommy was sick too." Jaya couldn't respond, he was simply silent as he hugged his little girl. Seya felt sad, confused, and scared, sniffling, she asked, "Did… did I take mommy away?" She had overheard mages proficient in healing and medicine talking about how her mother was sick, too sick to survive childbirth._

"_No!" Jaya said sharply, "no, you didn't take mommy away, she loved you, and really wanted you, we really wanted you, she wanted to show you her home town, her favorite foods, how to sow, how to dance, magic, if you are able to cast it. She wanted to show you everything in the whole wide world, and I wanted to help her show you. Mommy was sick for a long time, it's not your fault, and it will never be your fault." Jaya had hugged his daughter tighter, but for some reason, his kind words seemed to make Seya feel worse._

_Mendel had approached them at that time. He had offered a way to cure Seya, and Jaya took his offer, together, they began desperately searching for a cure. For some reason though, her dad had been acting weird lately. She remembered a woman with red hair and red eyes that made dad act weird, and she didn't like the lady, even though she'd always smile at Seya. The lady had big canines, she was scary._

_But Seya got sicker, and one day, while Jaya was researching in their home, Seya started vomiting blood and collapsed, she had lost so much blood, so much that she thought she would drown in it. As if a spell was released, Jaya became determined to save Seya on his own and avoided that red-haired woman and Mendel. That was, until Mendel came, claiming he found the cure…_

"_The liquid is suffused with magic used to heal, it will find the impurity in her body, and heal her." Mendel had said, smiling._

_After a few more hours, Seya was released from the tank._

"_Daddy, I don't feel hurt anymore!" Jaya smiled, tears in his eyes as he embraced his child. The last thing she saw for a while after that was Jaya's face twisting in terror and hurt, and her world turning red as she puked blood again…_

Seya shuddered slightly from the memory, almost tasting the coppery, coin-like liquid filling her mouth again.

"Jeez, honey… that hurt."

Seya turned angrily to see Donovan, eyes smiling even as he had his hand covering his nose, blood oozed below his cupped hand and dripped off his chin. "You're tenacious, and that's not a compliment."

Seya picked up the pace, reaching levels of speed only athletes trained for sprinting could reach, speeds they could only be able to hold for at most 30 seconds to a minute. After a few minutes of silence. The familiar rapid tapping was heard. She turned in disbelief to see Donovan, arms pumping and legs pistoning as he cut through the air, catching up to, gaining on, then surpassing her.

"At this point, I think you aren't going to take me up on that date." Donovan was breathing hard, but his eyes were alert as he smiled, "But I think you'll definitely hate it if I win now, which I think makes me feel a lot better." He winked, "Great form, by the way, you have really great running legs." He licked his lips, wiping away some of the blood.

Seya felt an above-average feeling of loathing for this person, this boy, that would dare to continue to bother her. She had made it clear more than once that she wouldn't tolerate it again. She picked up the pace, surpassing human levels of speed as she quickly caught up, slowing down just a bit, she was right behind Donovan.

Donovan chuckled, "Oh, you're really close behind me baby, am I that magnetic?" Seya's reply was a fast swipe to the back of his neck as if he expected it, Donovan ducked and tumbled, extending his leg out to trip up Seya.

"Slow… painfully slow," Seya muttered, leaping over the leg and releasing a spinning kick into Donovan, who moved from his tumble into a miniature summersault, avoiding the attack with his momentum. He rolled and rose, skidding slightly.

"Yeeesh…." He hissed as he looked at his forearms and elbows, the dirt and stone scraped the skin off in some places and he was bleeding on his broken nose. "You're really feisty." He looked over at Seya, who glared at him. He got into a boxing stance, shifting his body and lowering his center of gravity as he slightly bent his knees and got on his tiptoes.

Seya eyed him wordlessly, changing her evaluation of him slightly.

_~He's standing a bit like Faris the first time I fought him._

Charging forward, Seya grabbed Donovan's neck before he could react, slamming him into the ground. She found herself smirking as he cried out in pain. Feeling her heart race, she cooled down, wiping her smile from her face and speaking gruffly. "I don't know what your problem is, I don't know what mental malady afflicts you, but if you say another word, I'll break the smallest bone you have in your finger, then move up in size, till I've broken the bones in your fingers, then toes, then move up your limbs, do I make myself clear?"

"You really don't want that date do you?" Donovan said, smiling.

Seya's response was to break all the individual bones in his left pinky and ring fingers, eight in total. She watched with interest as Donovan grinned at her, using it to bear his teeth and hide his grimace. "You know what, fuck it, you want that date? Fine, I'll let you go, and we'll have this fucking race, if you win, I'll go on that stupid outing, if I win, I'll shatter these arms and legs of yours."

Donovan smiled brightly, "Okay." He winced as she snapped the first bone of his left middle finger.

"No talking, nod, or shake your head." Seya let him go and stood up, sprinting back into the track, she ran at full tilt now, running for real at this moment with speeds comparable to that of elves.

Grinning to herself, she ran, for one minute, two minutes, half an hour, yet every time she looked back, she did not see Donovan. She was almost disappointed as she didn't see him.

"Hmph."

She slowed down to normal jogging speeds. At this point, if she kept going at that speed, people would begin to find her rate suspicious. Jogging, she allowed herself to fall into the silent rhythm of her jogging pace. Her silence was cut short by two sounds.

"What the…"

The rapid pattering of feet.

"You must be joking…"

She turned behind her as the second sound seemed to buzz by her ear. The sound of electricity arcing through the air, a humming, crackling noise that reminded her of some of the experiments in Mendel's research lab, and of the experiments with lightning and electricity she'd seen Morgan gushing over ad nauseam, turning around, she saw Donovan, sprinting at superhuman speed, rapidly gaining on her. Seya returned to her full sprinting speed. But even then, Donovan was gaining on her.

"What the hell are you?!" She demanded.

Donovan smirked, electricity arcing off of him whenever his feet hit the ground. As he got closer, Seya's hair began to stand on end and the smell of ozone filled the air near Donovan.

"I'm a tough bastard…" He murmured, sprinting past Seya, who stared in disbelief, determining whether or not to activate her enhancement.

"Oh, also!" Donovan called out, "I like black or red, also, make sure you wear a dress that shows a ton of cleavage, show off your body, give me a fun time!"

Seya smiled widely, her hair turning white and eyes glowing gold. She rushed past Donovan, throwing a quick jab to his side as she sprinted past him. After another few minutes, she began to slow down again, but just as she did, she saw Donovan, engulfed in blue lightning rushing towards her. Seya, activating her enhancement again, grit her teeth and began to sprint at full speed. "You're a pig…"

"Oh?" Donovan grinned, "That's the third nicest thing a girl other than my late fiance has ever told me." He attempted to pull ahead but was immediately tripped by an invisible barrier of magic. He slammed into the ground.

Seya sprinted ahead, rushing forward, eventually slowing down as she deactivated her enhancement. She saw the gates to the kingdom and the flinching guards who cleared a wide berth to allow her through. The crowd cheered as she passed through the victory circle. As the large frames projected her face, the announcer called out.

"W-winner! Seya Malor Jaya! Daughter of Durant Kuwait Jaya! Beating the record set by L-Liefen Fleetfoot… an elf!"

Seya felt a deep pit in her stomach as she saw the confusion and fear in the citizens' eyes...

…

Vulcan handled the pommel of his war hammer grimly as he looked at the werecat with a spotted white coat of fur.

"And you are certain it was a Ra'zac?"

_It is what the human kit… err, Faris, said. _Minnie replied.

Vulcan shook his head, if a Ra'zac was involved, the guards and Faris would likely be collecting corpses instead of rescuing children, but would also be in great danger. "Thank you for the information." He said, turning to the mages and full-fledged knights that made up his entourage.

"Let us hope we are not too late…"

Faris was engulfed by darkness as he sat in a nondescript room.

"_**You're painfully floundering like a moron."**_

Faris turned around he saw what appeared to be himself, but with scarlet hair and eyes, and antlers that stretched out into the darkness of the room.

"_You…" _He widened his eyes in surprise. His voice seemed to be reverberating around his head, like a man speaking into a large empty room.

"_**Yes, me,"**_ Tartarus said. He smirked as Faris took a guarded stance, and laughed as Faris flinched.

"_You look like me. Why?"_ Faris's voice echoed through the emptiness of his mindscape, a black void empty of the energy that used to exist before.

"_**Because,"**_ Tartarus began, materializing a blade. "_**Unfortunately for me, we've commingled, we're inseparable, mixed in too deeply."**_ He pointed a pale finger at Faris, _**And unfortunately for you, a shard of the blade designed to cut through, absorb, and damage magic is in your chest.**_

Faris recalled the curved blade that stabbed into his heart.

"_**Of course, it is also my fault, had I quietly returned ownership to you instead of attempting suicide, the malady would not be as catastrophic as it is now."**_

"_What malady..."_

"_**The disease of your blood Faris, you can't cast magic, because your heart circulates and pumps the same enchanted objects used to kill dragons and seal magic, you won't be able to cast a spell unless a miracle occurs."**_

Faris bristled, "_How am I even alive then!?"_

"_**They did their best to save you, and you aren't exactly completely human anymore, brat."**_

"_..."_

"_**Werecat got your tongue?"**_

"_It explains why I feel nothing when it comes to magic, but then, why do I give off the same… feeling as that tool utilized to hide those assassin's presence against the magic detection?"_

"_**Also because of me. Imagine yourself as a broken vase, leaking your essence outside until it is completely empty. I cannot fix it, I can only attempt to repair it, but even then, there's not much I can do other than to place your broken vessel inside another broken vessel of almost the same size, again, and again, and again, hoping the overlaps block all of your essences inside. Interestingly, you transformed from a leaking vessel to a slightly leaking sponge, and now absorb minute bits of the residue left off when a spell is cast."**_

"_Residue?"_

"_**All spells leave off a trace of their energy, I'm sure you've realized, that signature that informs you of the mage who cast it somewhat? The energy in this signature, no matter how minute, is still energy that can be absorbed, in a normal condition, it wouldn't matter to one such as ourself, but…" **_He smirked, "_**This city has a high concentration of mages, and your betrothed has had the presence of mind to surreptitiously attempt to give you large gouts of energy, most of it escapes, but I'm able to capture a precious few percentages, which I used to reinforce your failing vessel. You should thank us, we saved your life, no creature on this planet can survive for long with such a vessel as yours."**_

Faris's eyes widened, "_A way to… absorb the energy of released spells… that could mean reducing the cost of spells cast by increasing their efficiency, and absorbing the power of spells cast on or against oneself."_

"_**Bask in my genius child, for I utilized the information you gained from your pitiful existence, and now I reap my benefits."**_

"_Give me back my body."_

"_**After all the work I put in? No, I will enjoy my time under the sun, at least until the energy I amassed dissipates, besides, I'm saving your life, don't you remember?"**_

Faris's mind began to flood with memories. "_NO!"_ He screamed, charging the shade. Immediately, a great pressure-filled the room, and he was knocked down. He attempted to fight against it, physically, mentally but could do nothing.

"_**This is the mindscape boy… you know how this goes, a mental field where we wrestle for control of the ego and id. Last two times we clashed, you were aided, by ghosts, by a split self, you are alone, and those… things, have no ability to act in a mind and body as broken as yours, you must have realized how murderous you've been acting as of recently? Is this rage fully yours?"**_

"_Shut… up!"_ Faris shouted, struggling, he began to slowly rise. He reached halfway before the shade sighed dismissively, the pressure doubled, forcing him to the ground.

"_**Just sleep for a while, it's too late to save those guards, but at least you might live, if you don't get in my way, in fact, I'm feeling so charitable I might just not murder those children…"**_ The shade smirked and began to turn transparent. As he did, Faris began to see the outside world as if through a screen, he could control nothing, but could touch, smell, see, hear, and taste the outside world in a muted sense, he attempted to move his arms and legs, but nothing changed on the screen. He felt his head turn, and watched as his eyes turned to face Alpha and Gamma, watched as he charged forward, no longer in control of his own body…

Alpha and Gamma watched in interest as the shade charged towards them. The green-tinted blood that surrounded the room gave off no feeling of magic, and their wards gave no alarm of spells being cast that attacked them.

"He's…" Gamma began.

"Slow, almost as slow as normal humans." Alpha finished, frowning. "How boring." She extended her hand. "Jierda." Tartarus's face was grim as he stumbled, falling forward and tumbling into their direction.

"Oh? Hahaha!" Gamma laughed, pointing at the collapsed shade. "That was-"

"Something's wrong!" Alpha interrupted, Gamma turned too late to see Tartarus swing his blade, lopping off her index finger. Gamma's screams and curses of pain were cut short as Tartarus prepared to swing down on her head.

Alpha rushed in, punching Tartarus hard enough to send him flying. He landed, standing and observing his broken arm, after a few seconds it twisted and bent back into shape, leaving only a small bruise.

"Gaagh…. ahh!" Gamma screamed, "It's not healing!" Alpha turned in shock, Gamma was still bleeding profusely from the stump of her finger the healing was coming along, but it was slow, painfully slow. Alpha turned back towards Tartarus. Tartarus stared at her with a stern blank face, then the corners of his lips began to fidget as he formed a smile.

"Something funny, bastard?"

Tartarus replied slowly, "a little, just had a heart to heart." He looked around the room, whistling. "Wow, you guys were busy. How did you prepare this room?"

"Shut up!" Gamma screamed, extending her hands to her vines. Despite her best attempts, they did not move, she did not feel her energy being used either to move them. "What did you do?!" She turned to face Tartarus, flinching as she saw how close he was.

Alpha struck him again, but this time, Tartarus retaliated with a sword swing, leaving a gash in Alpha's forearm. He narrowed his eyes, "You have tough skin." He looked at the short sword, it was chipped in the areas he used to cut Gamma and Alpha.

Alpha didn't reply, instead, she recited every killing and damaging spell she knew in the ancient language, and frowned as nothing happened. "What did you do?"

Tartarus's face twisted into disbelief. "Are you stupid? Or just ignorant? Why the hell would I give you that answer?" Taking out his own short sword, Tartarus twirled it. Pointing the tip of the chipped one at Gamma, he held the other one at his shoulder. "We are enemies in battle, there's no point in any real pleasantries." He charged forward once more.

Gamma leapt back as far as she could, whilst Alpha grabbed a spear and charged forward. She started with a wide sweep with the butt of the spear, aiming for his feet. Tartarus vaulted over her, swinging his blade mid flip. Ducking out of the way, Alpha attempted to backstab. Tartarus used the chipped short sword to deflect the spear point but was surprised as she overpowered his one-handed deflection. He pulled back his other arm, launching the short sword towards Alpha. As the spear pierced his shoulder and pinned him to the wall, his short sword pierced Alpha's side.

She screamed out in pain, coughing up blood for the first time in a long time. Tartarus grinned, pulling out the spear, green-tinted blood oozed from his wound but had already begun to heal. He twirled the spear, pointing its bloody end towards Alpha, who grabbed the short sword and launched it back at him. Tartarus leapt to the side instinctively, and Alpha charged at him while he was midair. Tartarus thrust the spear mid-air into the ground, the spear bent and snapped, but shifted his momentum, allowing him to dodge Alpha's charge. He held onto both halves of the broken spear, charging Alpha and attacking with a twirling motion.

Alpha blocked and dodged his swings, moving with speed. As she attempted her own retaliatory blows he was always just barely out of reach. Growing irritated she charged forward. Tartarus readied himself cocking back his arm holding the spear end, he charged forward, aiming for her chest. Alpha extended her right palm, catching the blade in it, she winced as the blade easily pierced her skin, but smirked as it caught itself in her hand. Tartarus widened his eyes.

"I learned this move from you," Alpha said, swinging her other hand forward. Tartarus went flying, crashing into the furthest wall and falling, his arm hung limply. "I noticed, you always slow down when you begin to heal. So, even if I can't heal at the moment, I'll just trade you blow for blow." She charged forward, not even pulling out the spear blade piercing her right hand. Tartarus dodged with a short hop, tossing the other end of the spear at her. She batted away the useless thing and swung at him. Grabbing the fist with his working arm, Tartarus flipped her over. Running forward, he kneed Alpha in the face. Blood spilled out from her nose, but he saw her smirking as she kicked him, knocking him to the ground. She charged forward straddling him to choke him out. Tartarus attempted to overpower her grip, but failing in that, reached into his pack, taking out a needle he jammed it into her right ear.

Alpha screamed in agony, grip loosening. This gave Tartarus enough time to push her off then kick with all his might, launching her a few feet back. As he attempted to recover he felt an explosion of pain all over his back as Gamma, coming out from behind him, smashed a mace into his back. As he hit the ground he saw her raise the mace from the corner of his eye. Despite his protesting body, he rolled out of the way. Extending his legs, he kicked with all his might, dislocating Gamma's jaw. As Gamma fell, she dropped the mace. Tartarus grabbed it, swinging to smash unto her head. Gamma blocked with both her arms. The mace shattered, but Gamma screamed, her hands mangled and forelimbs broken. Using the wooden shaft as a baton, Tartarus began smacking the now defenseless Gamma in the head repeatedly before bringing down the blunt end against her throat. He heard a scream, turning just in time to see Alpha wielding his short sword. Tartarus fell to the side in an attempt to dodge, stabbing out with the stick, he caught Alpha in the throat, but she kicked him viciously in the gut, launching him into the wall. The three monsters groaned in agony as they each struggled to their feet. But only one was laughing as well.

"What… is so funny…" Alpha groaned as she slowly rose from the ground. She was bleeding in multiple places and had a massive bruise on her neck, it hurt when she dry swallowed, and it felt like not enough air reached her lungs. She had trouble standing straight, the destruction of her eardrum led to a balance issue, and she felt like if she moved too quickly, she'd stumble over and fall. Her eyes were full of fury. In opposition, Gamma's eyes were dull and full of pain, her stump finger had just stopped bleeding, yet now both hands were nearly crushed beyond repair. She struggled to get to her feet, but without the use of her arms, she fell over quickly. Tartarus however was laughing louder as he observed their injured forms. His echoing, haunting laugh sending chills down their spines.

"You said I slow down when I need to heal…" He smirked, "that was a lie." He winced as his limbs began to snap back into place. "See…" he muttered, "you fight monsters like a monster."

"You!" Alpha was inflamed, she stumbled forward, breaking into a sprint. Tartarus leaned back, dodging her clumsy swipe and kicked forward, catching her in the neck. Gamma, watching this, slammed her fist down in anger cracking and crushing part of the floor, age screamed out in agony before turning silent.

Ignoring Gamma, Tartarus focused on Alpha's writhing form. "Yes? Do you have a question? I charge by the hour for my consultations." Tartarus kicked her in the gut, flipping her over. He casually walked over to one of the guard's corpses, picking up the sword in the best condition. "If you can't pay, I'll have to collect my fees in a different way. I think your life can serve as decent collateral." He smiled brightly. His hand was shaking slightly, frowning he raised his sword to cut down Alpha, he didn't have much time left.

He was interrupted by a vine wrapping around his forearm. He chopped it, turning to Gamma, who grinned viciously, her hair was glowing white and her eyes were a shining leaf green as vines extended from the cracks in the ground she made. She launched the vines forward. Tartarus dodged them and noticed how she was only

Able to change their direction from the base. "I see you've figured things out a bit."

His blood, Faris's blood, absorbed and nullified magic. He had bled himself originally to both allow him to cast a few simple spells, and to spread this dampening effect. The enhanced children, and shades for that manner, had great physical strength naturally as a result of their transformation, a physical might that was somewhat independent of their bodies suffused with magic. Tartarus's body was weak, and even as a Shade, the ravages of his condition left him weaker than even the strongest of humans, only being somewhat stronger than the current human Faris. But he still had the Shade's regeneration. That had been his advantage. But now Gamma had discovered the barrier's weakness. If a part of the formation was destroyed, in that immediate area, she could access magic. He watched as she extended a vine to Alpha, cursing as he cut through the vines.

Alpha quickly recovered and immediately launched flames from her position. Within the field, the flames began to rapidly lose size and dissipate, but the room was small enough that they'd still hit the walls. Glancing behind him, Tartarus saw the evaporated section, more and more of his barrier was destroyed. As Tartarus dodged, he felt something brush up against his leg, looking down, he saw one of the children. Groaning in irritation, he turned to see Alpha conjuring an extremely large fireball.

"Alpha!" Gamma shouted fearfully, "The doctor said-"

But Alpha launched the blast of fire, ignoring Gamma.

Tartarus reached into Faris's pack, finding a packet of pellets. Grimacing, he shoved several into his mouth, chewing and swallowing. As a disciple of Angela, Faris was privy to a few potions, brews, and concoctions. Feeling the short term burst of energy, Tartarus tightened his grip on the blade and began to swing with reckless abandon. He immediately felt his muscles tearing as he ignored his body's limits, and felt the air in front of him swirl and woosh violently. The pockets and vacuum of air he created helped disperse the flames, but he was still hit immediately by the intense heat, luckily for him, it did not extend past him to hurt the child. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Ra'zac, staring at him intensely.

"Eyes here…" Alpha slammed him to the ground. Unable to lift his sword and with barely enough energy to maintain control, Tartarus simply stared at Alpha, who looked at him as a psychopathic child looked at a fly. "How to kill you…" Alpha smirked, "do you have any tricks left you'd like to show?"

Tartarus sighed, "I wish." Alpha's reply was to snap his left arm. Tartarus groaned.

"_He… protected the children."_ The Ra'zac said. "_And you… tried to kill them."_

"Who cares?" Alpha rolled her eyes, she then stood up. "Who the hell cares if a bunch of raggedy orphans die? They're just going to die in Mendel's experiments anyway."

"_W-what?!"_ The Ra'zac struggled against the vines.

"Yup, those kids you 'saved'? They're destined to die anyway." Alpha chuckled at the Ra'zac's subdued reaction. "So, who actually cares if those brats die?"

A war hammer slammed into Alpha, knocking her over. As the hammer twirled in the air it returned to a stout, tanned hand. Staring grimly into the room, the Dwarven Rider, Vulcan, spoke, "I care, aye, I care if those kids die…"


	19. Chapter 19

"Thank you for your help." Perevail smiled at the human healers. They bore the white robes with blue lining characteristic of the Protectors Mage guild. The lead healer in question, a young woman of average height, golden curly locks, and green eyes. As opposed to a few of the other women and men in her squad, Merigold seemed comfortable around the riders, this casual nature made it easiest for the riders to deal with her over anyone else.

"No problem Sir Perevail." Merigold smiled, "Lady Maheera is quite fine, I'm not fully familiar with how deep the bond is, but Lady Juliana has been healed as well, luckily, you've all been so kind as to allow us to learn about dragon anatomy." Her eyes glittered, "I'm always interested in learning about how people and animals work, all those intertwining muscles wrapping nerves and bones and blood vessels." She held her flushing face.

"I… I see," Perevail nodded uncomfortably.

"Oh! Excuse me!" Merigold patted her face. "I apologize, I was born on a farm and prided myself on helping take care of the animals. A plague came out and decimated most of our livestock, and that mixed with others with natural injuries made life hard, I took up magic to help farmers and herders, and to of course help those who were sick as well."

Quite admirable. Belgabad quipped, he looked at the mages with his silver eyes. You care much for the lives under your protection, and I thank you for all of your efforts in healing my little siblings.

"Of course Sir Belgabad." Merigold bowed. After a few more moments, she and the other mages excused themselves.

She is an interesting human.

"She's crazier than Maheera, but in a different way." Perevail joked.

Come now Perevail, have you not seen elves with such obsessions?

"Well, yes." Perevail had to admit, living with the disparate cultures of the different riders, he had come to find that his race was often as peculiar, if not more peculiar, than the other races of Alagaesia. "Well, let us check on the lady in question."

Due to their prolonged stay, King Orrin had ordered the construction of a base of operations large enough to comfortably house several dragons, due to a combined effort between the races it took only months, but the newly created Dragon's Roost was well received by all dragons, though their riders often felt that is was much too hot for their liking. With walls as black as ebony, lit by everlasting torches, and separate doors and grand doors for the dragons, resting areas on different levels, and a massive stone and wood and charcoal bed that the dragons could occasionally light on fire for an extra warm nap, it was a building made with dragons and riders in mind, and Perevail could appreciate human and dwarven ingenuity.

They walked into the next room, where Maheera and Juliana were resting. Perevail looked to Juliana first, with where she had been cut, only a slight discoloration of scales showed the nearly catastrophic injury that had existed there before. He smiled in relief as he approached.

"How are you?"

Juliana narrowed her violet eyes at the elf, then lowered them, looking to Maheera.

I was a liability…

"No!" Maheera interrupted, "I was a liability, darn it, Juliana, my dragon, my partner, she was hurt." She turned to Juliana, "You were hurt, and I failed to protect you, I failed to heal you."

Juliana was silent, and slowly lowered her head to Maheera.

"You two should not feel blame…" Perevail began, smiling gently, "People can get hurt, they can make mistakes, reflect on how you were hurt, and what you need to do to be better."

Juliana turned to Maheera. You should get on your feet, you are a warrior, a hunter, a hunter must stretch their legs as much as they stretch their wings.

"But I can't leave you here, you aren't clear to stand yet."

I can take her to the coalbed, it will help warm her. Belgebad's eyes began to glow as he chanted in the ancient language. Juliana was levitated off the bed, and the massive silver dragon turned to head down to the coal bed, with Juliana floating behind.

"I still can't get used to how powerful in the ancient language he is." Maheera whispered with wonder.

Dragons did not need to fear losing themselves to lapses in concentration, their minds were built differently than that of humans, dwarves, urgals, or even elves, despite that, they also could not willingly use magic save for what was required for them to fly and breathe fire. Belgabad was the only exception. He had been born exceedingly calm compared to the more boisterous dragons, and had taken a penchant for meditating with Perevail. One day, as Perevail was reciting some poems in the ancient language, Belgabad had been inspired by the deep emotions going through Perevail's mind, and was able to bring part of the prose into reality. Belgabad had concentrated on this feeling, and with years of dedication, could call upon it to reach deeply into magic, whilst he did not need the ancient language, wordless magic's effects were more feeling than objective, and while it would never go awry, he could in fact be truly feeling a different truth to what he was trying to accomplish. This skill in magic though made Belgabad likely the most powerful dragon in history, a title that he approached with in humility. He had attempted to teach the other dragons this skill, but none had the patience to sit still if they were not sleeping or resting or preparing for a hunt, so much of his instruction fell on deaf ears.

Perevail smiled "Each dragon has their gift, this is simply Belgabad's." He turned to Maheera, "Let us walk, I'm certain you'd enjoy some fresh air."

He and Maheera waled out of Dragon's Roost, and were greeted by the sight of Marcale sparring with Rhumkard, and Johodar practicing midair maneuvers with Barukagon.

"Ah!" Rhumkard shouted with joy, blocking Marcale's swing absentmindedly as he looked at his fellow riders. "You've awoken Maheera, good! How is Juliana, and how are you?" He continued to block swings and thrusts brought down by Marcale, who had attempted to take advantage of his rider senior's lack of attention.

"Oh come on!" Marcale sighed after tripping and tumbling. "I should at least be able to get a hit in when you're not even looking!"

Maheera giggled, which caused Marcale to blush and turn. "I am well, as is Juliana, she simply needs some more rest, Belgabad led her to the Dragon's Roost CoalBed."

Good, she needs the heat to help her circulation. Johodar stated, who dived below Barukagon's grasp and lightly smacked the larger dragon's flank.

Better… Barukagon stated, Your aim is quite decent.

"At least someone's improving…" Marcale muttered. He grew apprehensive as Maheera approached him, and gaped in surprise as she held her hand out for him.

"I heard how you and Johodar had done your best to protect myself and Maheera, and how if not for you, we may have died multiple times." Maheera looked to the side, "I'm from a rough family of hunters, so it's a little hard to talk about it, but thanks, you saved our lives, and I'm sorry for belittling you, war, can be scary, and it can be hard…"

"Hey!" Marcale said quickly, "It's quite alright, and don't apologize too much! I… I understand a bit now… I understand why we need to fight." Marcale's thoughts went to the soldiers injured in battle on their side, wounds ranging from minor to life threatening, and recalled how almost all of them had someone to return home to.

Unfortunately for you, the one you'd return to is where you'd like them to be the least. Johodar quipped.

QUIET! Marcale messaged to his dragon privately.

Maheera however seemed to have not heard or registered Johodar's quip as she continued. "Either way, thank you, I guess you're not as cowardly as I thought."

Marcale smiled ruefully. "You really aren't used to complimenting people huh…"

Maheera laughed, then quietly replied, "No, just you." After a moment, she looked for Rhumkard. "Hey! Captain, can I spar with Marcale, I want to see if he's actually picked anything up!" Marcale paled as he watched Rhumkard ponder then nod. He turned to the smiling Maheera, all traces of embarrassment rid from her eyes. "Alright twerp, let's see you dance…"

Rhumkard and Perevail observed them sparring, then turned to each other to talk.

"I take it that things are going well with Vulcan and Volund?" Rhumkard asked.

This peeked the resting Johodar's interest, so the scarlet and gold dragon approached to listen in.

"He seemed healthy, if not a little tired." Perevail replied, "Ilirea was as busy as the warfront for a short moment, if not busier."

The nonsense with the shades and scrags of the black hand? As well as the stealing of human children right? Johodar asked.

Perevail nodded, closing his eyes, "The children's fate was especially tragic, most are dead, the rest were transformed into tools of battle, and countless shades along the way."

"They had one survivor." Rhumkard stated, "an interesting tale, a friend from the Catch-Tooth tribe gushed about a smart human boy who knew our tongue and lived with them."

"Yes, Vulcan sent me a correspondence, he likes the child from the few times they've interacted, he stated he had a level head and decent fighting prowess."

I heard from Marcale that the boy had turned into a Shade and subsequently lost his magic, how does one return from such a state?

"Given interviews and interrogations regarding this fiasco, it's likely that the experiment to turn him into a tool went awry, though, if he'a half as competent as Vulcan thinks he is, he may have just wrestled with the spirits mentally." Rhumkard snorted at Perevail's words. Perevail waited for the chortling to stop before continuing, "as it is, the Great Games have commenced, and there is an egg for choosing. Perhaps fate will shine on that child and he becomes a rider."

I worry, with all the attacks, wouldn't someone attempt to steal away the egg?

Perevail smiled, "You and Marcale are our newest pair of dragon and rider to be stationed with Eragon, so you may not have known, Vulcan has completed the most tasks asked of by Eragon. He's a talented, patient, strong fellow."

Rhumkard added, "He's a better fighter than I am from a martial level, if anyone could handle shades or worse, it would be him…"

…

"Hmmm?" Alpha turned to Gamma. "Who's that?"

Gamma looked at Vulcan, then back at Gamma. "I think that's a rider."

Alpha burst out laughing. "You mean the dwarf that struggled against the trash remnants of the black hand?" She smirked, turning to look at Vulcan.

Vulcan observed her with his dark eyes, he was equipped with a chain shirt, leather jerkin, and half plate. In his right hand he held a large hammer, in his left hand he held a steel tower shield. The rider's eyes roamed around his sockets as he scanned the room, eventually, his eyes rested on Tartarus.

The shade was lying on his stomach, arms to the side and twisted and mangled in weird angles. He gave Vulcan a wide grin, which caused the Rider to scowl, but the scowl quickly dropped from his face as he looked in front of Tartarus, a huge pile of ash and soot lay before the shade, with the ground still smocking from the heat of flames, but directly behind him, free of such things, where several children wrapped in vines. Vulcan then stared hard at the various burns covering the shade's body, and frowned. Tartarus, seeing the frown, turned away in annoyance.

Vulcan turned to the group of knights, guards, and mages, "Stay back, focus on protecting yourselves, I'll get you an opportunity to take the children, flee as soon as-"

"Hey! Pay attention to me!" Alpha raised her hand. "Brisingr Sverd!" (Fire Sword), she conjured a pillar of flame which she shaped vaguely into a sword, as she narrowed her eyes, the flames began to concentrate, growing brighter and brighter until it was blinding. As the room was engulfed in this bright light, Tarturus's eyes began to flicker between their bright red and Faris's colorless white with a hint of blue and violet. His eyes glanced to the children, who were now sweating profusely from the bright light, he frowned and began to try and move.

Vulcan turned back to Alpha, and not a moment too soon as the enhanced child charged towards him, blade of flame crackling as she swung down on Vulcan. Vulcan raised his shield to block, but after a split second instead moved out of the way. The flame sword slashed down at the shield, striking from the edge and overlapping, half the blade passing through and clipping off a bit of his pauldron.

"Oh? Aren't you pretty smart Beardie…" Alpha jokingly said, swinging her blade. "My 'sword', is made of flames, it isn't solid, so a shield is pretty useless!" She charged forward.

"Thringa!" (Compress/Thrust!) Vulcan shouted, a concentration of air focused on the middle of his shield that began to launch forward, as Alpha's flame sword hit this compressed air, an explosion of heat knocked both parties back. From the cloud of smoke and debris Vulcan charged forward, shouting out. "Kveykva böllr!" (Lightning ball, ball lightning, ect). Electricity arced out of his hand, forming into a an orb that bounced within itself, he launched it forward towards Alpha. Alpha took the blow head on, stumbling as the electricity caused her body to spasm. A second blast of lightning launched towards her, only to be blocked by rapidly approaching vines.

Gamma charged forward, vines trailing her and rushing towards Vulcan. As she charged forward she shouted every combination of words of death she could, smirking as Vulcan frowned.

"Thurra du lianí." (Dry the vines) The vines that approached Vulcan began to shrivel up rapidly. Vulcan quickly tore down the dry swinging down on Gamma. Instead of hitting flesh it struck her wards.

"I'm not a fan of pain like that freak over there." Gamma smirked, glancing at Alpha, who was getting back up. Raising her hands she launched more and more vines, wrapping around Vulcan. "Gath un thringa!" (Unite and compress!) The dry vines began to wrap around Vulcan, who raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Most people don't block things that don't hurt them." Gamma smirked, "I'm lazy, so I don't like having to reword my wards." Alpha charged forward with her flame sword, preparing to thrust into Vulcan's face.

"Stenr reisa" (Stone rise). A slab of the ground began to crack, rising up and knocking over Gamma, the stone raised up, blocking Alpha's path, she smashed through the rocks. "Vaetna!" (Scatter). The shattered stone split into hundreds of pieces of shrapnel and rapidly spread apart, parts of it crashing against Gamma's wards and vines and into Alpha. "Thringa!" (Compress). The spread stones began to fly back, wrapping around and covering Alpha's body. Alpha's movements slowed as the stones wrapped around her like a personal tomb.

Vulcan, freed from the vines, swung his hammer with inhuman force. Knocking Alpha back. As she flew back he began to rapidly chant in the ancient language, as he did, the vines surrounding the children were severed and they began to float into the air, which was beginning to shimmer from the heat.

"Oh, I can't have that happening." Gamma sighed, raising her hands, Vulcan frowned as the children stopped floating towards the exit. Eventually, he tisked, and the children floated back to the ground. "Good, you're busy fighting Alpha, and you've gotten her excited." Gamma sighs, "Now I have to keep them from burning. Malthinae aí skölir fra du verma." (Make a shield from the heat). A barrier, invisible save for the fact that the air behind it no longer shimmered from the rising heat, rose in front of Gamma, behind her was the children, the Ra'zac, and Tartarus.

Vulcan was about to speak, but snapped his head back on Alpha as the rocks and ground around her began to melt. A hand moved through that molten rock. Alpha stepped out from the molten slag, she smirked, "I didn't think I would actually need to try today, it's a good thing you delayed us then Gamma."

Gamma groaned, "I wish I didn't, first we dealt with guards, then a failed experiment, then a rider, should have told me to hurry up."

"Oh shut up, you wouldn't have listened anyway, just keep that barrier up." Alpha put her hands on her hips, "The doctor said we were designed to be capable of surpassing elves, shades, and riders right? Consider this a legitimate test run." She rushed forward at full speed, the ground cracked as she charged forward. Crashing into Vulcan's wards before he could raise his shield to block. "Come on old man!" Alpha laughed, the molten rock streaming towards her arm like tendrils flowing into the palm of her hand, she aimed it towards the entrance, where the kingdom's forces waited.

"Skölir!" Vulcan shouted, putting up an invisible barrier, Alpha launched a blast of flames and molten stones, smashing against the barrier. Using this distraction, Vulcan swung his hammer, crushing Alpha's arm and breaking her concentration. Alpha smiled as her wounds healed instantly, swinging back at Vulcan, who raised his shield in preparation…

"Well, isn't this awkward…" Donovan gave an apologetic smile, eyes wide like deers in head lights. "I had no idea we were breaking the record for fastest run. If I knew you were aiming for that I'd.." Seya ignored his rambling, glancing around, he was the loudest speaker, but she could overhear mage students and knight apprentices looking at her suspiciously. "I mean," Donovan added, speaking louder, "I can't believe you got searched by all those mages! They looked for even the slightest trace of a crystal for storing energy, and the look on their faces when you answered that you didn't cheat?!" He broke into a smile, "Fantastique. Man, I really won't get that date."

Seya saw her friends approaching, they had been dragged away by knights and mages and grilled on whether or not Seya had cheated, she had been fine with being interrogated herself, as annoying and bad as it already was, but she found herself irritated as she saw their faces. She grabbed Donovan's collar, "What do you want with us?!" Donovan responded by pursing his lips and making kissing noises at her. She cocked her fist back, but was stopped by Morgan.

"Seya… he's not worth it." Morgan shook his head, and glanced around, the other students began averting their eyes.

From an appreciable distance, John whispered to Cynthia. "So… why was it such a big deal?"

Cynthia glared at John, but did not answer. It was Vern who then opened his mouth and spoke, "Elves are superior to humans in physical and magical abilities, and while I can't say for sure whether they are generally smarter just outright, Elves are nigh immortal, so the average adult elf will have the level of life experience of human elders in our society. Humans only bridge that gap by being riders… or shades, and even if we can catch up to the accumulated knowledge the elves have, there's only so much an individual can learn and study before they die. Seya isn't a rider… and she is known to associate with Faris, who had his… accident, while nothing is concrete on either the mage or non-mage faction..." He looked at some of the Mages and Knights acting as administrators for the game. A few of them were talking amongst themselves or speaking to various contestants, but quite a few moved their gazes over to Seya and the other Mage apprentices of her group. "...their team as a whole has gotten on more than a few nerves on both sides, and Seya is the most suspicious of them all, as no one really has info on her from her birth till she was around 12."

"Huh, so conspiracy garbage?" John muttered, he spit on the floor. "Geez, it's been 4 years since she's been in this city and causing a ruckus, and just now they're paying attention to anything?" He frowned. "Sometimes I wonder how many of these old codgers actually remember what honor is, or whether they're more like Rembrant than they'd care t-"

"Don't mention that traitor's name." Cynthia cut sharply, "The anti-mage faction exists to protect people from Mage's abusive power, I have no problem with people attempting to seek strength beyond the norm…" She glanced at Donovan, then Seya, then Venka, "But I can't condone them using unfair means during something as sacred as the great games, they weren't competing against elves, urgals, beings of greater ability than humans normally, they were competing against fellow humans."

"That's exciting…" John smirked, "That means she doesn't give a rat's arse about 'fairness', I should have some fun then."

"Please," Cynthia sighed, "You lose to your cousin every time you duel, you expect to defeat someone likely stronger?"

John just laughed, "Won't know till I try…"

…

How are your wards?

"They are strong Volund…" Vulcan swung and blocked and danced around the human girl wreathed in flames attempting to gut him. The heat from the flames she emitted felt like a dull warmth and the attacks he could not parry or deflect instead bounced off his wards. At the moment, his dragon was standing straight above the area he confronted the children of the Scarlet Heart in, prepared to punch a hole through the cobblestone if he so needed help.

Be careful, the stone around this area is beginning to heat up, to the point that the morning dew is evaporating and the mist is clearing as if under the light of the midday sun.

"Only that hot?" Vulcan muttered, "I've handled tongs with worse heat resistance."

The red-eyed girl, Alpha as she seemed to be called, twitched at his statement and began to move even faster.

Barzul! He cursed mentally, She's faster than Perevail!

But you can still react. Volund replied.

Vulcan's minimal movements continued to be just barely enough to parry and block Alpha's worst blows, with his wards blocking what he couldn't, but he was able to also trade blows every once in a while, and Alpha, not having any wards, would receive the occasional broken limb, slowing her down for moments at a time.

…

As the fight continued, Faris felt himself wresting control of his body back from Tartarus, but as he gained more and more control the pain he had put his body through the more he began to feel the pain his body was in.

"It looks like he might win, but it will be close." Tartarus remarked innocently. Faris ignored him, fighting through the pain was one thing, but trying to reassert control of his body was like swimming through freezing mud while also under the haze of sleep. He struggled to move his limbs, even blinking felt like a chore. "Tut tut" Tartarus said in an admonishing tone. Faris immediately felt himself black out as the world grew dark again.

…

Vulcan had incurred a few injuries by now, his wards weren't perfect for efficiency's sake, so stray pebbles often slipped past his wards, pelting his armor but sometimes slipping through gaps and hitting his skin, the worst of those wounds was a huge welt on his thumb knuckle from a sizeable rock when he didn't raise his shield in time. The wound throbbed, but he didn't have enough time to heal or take out a tool he had already enchanted.

Alpha seemed to be in perfect condition despite the various blood stains all over her clothing from his attacks, her body regenerated rapidly, the way it jerked and popped and snapped back into place reminding him of a shade, or of a craftsman popping back in the joints of a marionette.

"Tired, old man?" She smirked, swinging her fist into the ground, causing the ground to crack and shrapnel to fly everywhere, the majority hit the walls, ceiling, floor, and Gamma's barrier, but many were launched in Vulcan's direction. Vulcan raised his shield and ran to the right, feeling the sound of the stones pelting his shield like a rapid drum beat. Rolling to the side he avoided Alpha's headlong charge, and hopping back he cocked back his hammer, tightening his grip, and swung with all his might, meeting her fist with his hammer. The force pushed him back, but broke Alpha's hand once again. Before she could recover, he rushed forward, swinging his hammer with reckless abandon. Alpha deflected the blows at first with great ease, but her movements began to slow, imperceptibly at first, then in a more gradual and noticeable fashion, she began to slow down, the recoil of their clashes knocked Vulcan back less and less, and her face began to betray the slightest bit of exhaustion.

Victory is tilting in my favor, Vulcan thought. His celebratory thoughts were cut short by a vine wrapping around his leg and skewing his balance.

"You forgot about meeee." Gamma said in a sing-song voice, smirking as her eyes gleamed in iridescent green light. Vulcan cursed out as his Hammer was being wrenched from his grip. Above them in the ceiling, Volund began to slam into the stone road above, attempting to break into the sewers.

No! Vulcan shouted mentally, There are still children in this area! The fallen stones may kill them!

Then their blood will be my responsibility alone Vulcan, Volund retorted viciously, My Rider shall not die tonight.

Alpha stood up slowly, breathing heavily, a bloody, sardonic grin filled her face, flames began to gather in her hand, the flames began to swirl rapidly, concentrating into a spear like form that radiated a large amount of heat. Vulcan struggled against the vines but couldn't free himself.

Tartarus watched this occur in almost slow motion, he had no inclination to help either the dwarf or the enhanced children. But after a moment of thought, he stood up. Despite his bones creaking and limbs discolored from the injuries he sustained, Tartarus made his way over to Gamma, he picked up a broken blade near one of the guard corpses, then, when he was right next to Gamma, slashed his own hand. Gamma turned just in time to see the boy shove his palm at her lips. Her mouth opened reflexively in a gasp then closed, but she had not been quick enough to stop his blood from entering her mouth.

Vulcan felt the vines slack, giving him just enough time to swing his hammer into Alpha's spear of flame. His arm vibrated from the shock of the impact and he was blown backwards by an explosion of heat and fire. As if on cue, Volund's claw broke through the sewer roof, a bronze dragon's head pierced through the rubble, glaring at the red haired girl. Opening his maw, a gout of rust colored fire blasted out. Alpha leapt out of the way, turning towards Gamma. She narrowed her eyes as she saw Faris grabbing Gamma from behind, his hand still over her mouth.

With little hesitation she charged forward, Faris leapt to the side just as he saw her twitch, she barrelled past him, and grabbed Gamma and ignoring the still unconscious children behind them, they retreated further into the sewers as the flames continued to coil and curl, like a throng of living creatures dancing and attempting to devoir all in it's path. The vines, no longer powered by Gamma, caught on fire quickly, fueling the dragon fire and heating up the room. Faris, lipped chapped and skin already beginning to flake from the heat, turned to the Ra'zac and harshly shouted, "Get these kids further out!" He cut down the vines holding the Ra'zac in place. As the Ra'zac grabbed the children and began moving away, Faris stared hard at the cracked ceiling He picked up a spear and jamming it into the roof. He pushed into the spear twisting until more of the roof fell. As if on cue, the hot air, and flames carried by it, began to fly up into the cool air of the city.

The roof began to cave in and Faris felt an explosion of pain as a falling piece of the roof shattered his shoulder. He collapsed, the rubble beginning to bury him….


	20. Chapter 20

The group charged with following and aiding Vulcan had remained outside of the enclave as per his instructions. When the room began caving in, the mages rushed inside, using magic to hold parts of the roof over Vulcan from caving in. A guard scanned the room and pointed to the oddest sight he had ever seen in his life. In one corner of the room, just in front of an exit further into the sewers, lay several dozen children. Above them were several rocks, held up by a single figure in rags. The fact that a person, any person, could hold that much weight was astounding.

"Save the children!" Vulcan shouted, the mages nodded, extending their magic. Several knights and guards ran through the rubble, reaching and grabbing the children and taking them out of the sewers, concentrating, the mage's held the stones up for just a second. With just enough leeway, the figure rolled forward. A guard thought he noticed a bit of glossiness within the rags, but he had more pressing matters. The room eventually caved in as they were all lifted out.

Vulcan took count of the guards, then checked on the children. Despite the shaking and jostling, they were all still fast asleep. "Vakna" (awaken). The children began to rouse, and the guards turned to the hooded figure.

"You saved those children stranger, thank you." The figure ignored them, rushing towards the rubble, and tossing away bits and pieces of rubble.

The guards stood in confusion until the rubble cleared enough to reveal a bloody, mangled, discolored arm. A few rushed over to help, that's when the jostling of the figures revealed the hooded being as a Ra'zac.

Vulcan, who had been busy healing the minor wounds on the children turned to the sound of agitated guards and drawn weapons and saw them surround the Ra'zac as it continued to dig into the pile of rubble, slowly revealing Faris.

"Foul beast! How dare you sully our lands!" One cried out.

"Who sent you?! Are you another of Galbatorix's remnants?!" Another guard screamed.

"Lord Vulcan? Permission to attack?!" A third turned towards Vulcan, who nodded, sighing and picking up his hammer. Immediately, a grey-haired boy pounced him, attempting to knock away the hammer, even as he was shaking the boy off, several other children streamed past him and the guards, standing between them and the Ra'zac.

"You can't hurt Rags!" One shouted.

The guards stood in confusion, watching as the Ra'zac finally cleared all the rubble burying Faris, revealing his face to Vulcan.

Vulcan frowned, "Barzhul…" he had thought he had maybe been imagining things. Turning to his men, he spoke. "Stand down." Before they could give protest he spoke louder, "STAND, DOWN…" His men backed away, sheathing their weapons. Volund spread his wings, using them as a tarp that covered the men, children, and Ra'zac.

"Vulcan, look." Volund lifted his wings slightly, revealing that a crowd had begun to gather. "We cannot allow them to panic."

Vulcan sighed, causing the children and guards to tense up. He turned to look at Faris, who opened his ghostly pale blue eyes, scanning the area and then turning to Vulcan. Vulcan felt chills as he looked into the child's eyes, but the child's expression seemed to soften almost instantaneously. Vulcan's mind flashed to the image of a red-eyed Faris seared in his eyes, but his memory also flashed to watching that same red-eyed boy standing in the way of a searing flame launched by those enhanced children.

"Children, the… ra'zac."

"Rags!" One corrected. Vulcan turned to see a blue-eyed, blond youth with a fierce but frightened look on his face.

"Young master Wilkons?" A guard asked in astonishment.

Turning to one of the guards, Vulcan began barking orders. "Head to the castle, I need an approved teleport from our location into the castle, have it be done as discreetly as possible, then send an order for a crew to clear the rubble, we need to identify the bodies of the guards, see if any had families." He turned to his men, then to the children, then to Faris. "This is bigger than simply missing children…"

…

The air was cool enough in the room that breathing out would generate fog, giving the appearance of someone shooting out smoke, like a dragon preparing to breathe fire. The guards and interrogator in the room, despite being bundled in thick clothing, couldn't help but shiver slightly if they stayed in one position for too long. Their subject, however, despite still being in the thin cloth jerkin and leggings she was taken away with, did not shiver. Seya knew of these rooms, her father had told her that they had learned that humans acted more sluggishly in the cold, and more energetically in warmth, thus, depending on who they were interrogating, and depending on their countenance, they'd put them in either the hot room, or the cold room, and play on the person's irritation or desperation. To the average person, the stone table and chair she had been made to sit in would be nearly ice-cold, but to her, it simply helped cool her temper. They had brought her first to the hot room but had not been able to get a word out of her. The mages attempted to worm into her mind, but without written, witnessed permission from a royal judge she had a right to defend her mind, and did so with both ease and ferocity.

"Ms. Seya, we need answers." The interrogator, a tall man covered in thick cloth sighed. "If only because of your father, we are treating you with respect, so please, trust the adults to help and protect you."

"Of course, you want me to give incriminating evidence, whether true or not right? The next thing you'll say is you can keep a secret, and we're best friends right?" Seya chuckled, "I hold by my words until you get real permission, and it's looking pretty slow, you'll be hard-pressed to get any answers out of me."

The interrogator gave Seya a steely glare, which she met with equal levels of mirth and derision. Suddenly, she snapped right. Looking at the door, quickly getting up before they could intervene, Seya rushed to the entrance, looking through the small portal in the door. The interrogation room was close to a medical bay. Her father had stated that ironically that despite attempting to being above Galbatorix's rule, sometimes torture was a feasible demonstration of power. As the guards reached to try and apprehend her, she looked out, heart pounding, for some reason she felt, foreboding, while she could feel people's distinct signatures if she spread her mind out, she could still glean their presence. The signature she felt was faint, but she could recognize it, she could recognize him.

"Faris…"

"Young Lady, return to your seat, lest we be compelled to take drastic measures."

Seya turned to the Interrogator, then, without breaking her gaze, ripped the iron door from the stone wall, and set it to the side. The guards froze, confused and slightly frightened, watching as Seya stepped out and rushed towards the entourage of guards, knights, and mages.

"Halt! Civilians can come to no f-" the guard was interrupted as Seya barreled past him, squeezing through and seeing two figures bound in chains and stretched on medical gurneys. The first, larger being was a Ra'zac, as unorthodox and strange as it was, the appearance of the creature barely registered in her mind, her attention was almost completely focused on Faris, who was battered and bruised beyond belief. Arms and legs crushed and mangled and bent like a tree branch not fully snapped on each edge, forming a grotesque, twisted pattern. His head bore a horrible gash, still red and raw, and the skin at the edges curled up like some awful rake had burrowed through his skull and dragged itself through.

The guards tensed up as they saw Seya's face. She turned to a guard, who flinched, Seya's normally unemotional face was twisted in rage as she prepared a spell. Stepping forward, Vulcan rose his hands.

"Calm yourself, he's under my protection."

"Protection, hahaha, some protection, is arresting and beating up children the kingdom's new policy?" She eyed the various dirty orphans.

"Lord Vulcan!" The interrogator rushed out of the room, "I apologize for this miserable brat's behavior I'll!..." he was interrupted by Vulcan's raised hand.

"What was feared regarding Faris may have resurfaced." The Dwarven rider said simply. The interrogator cocked his head in confusion, but Seya blanched, looking distraught. Vulcan continued, "At the moment, we need to get him to a healer, but this is for his protection as much as ours, whatever you are doing here, you'll have to finish it before you can even think about entering the medical bay. I know of you Seya, daughter of Jaya, and I know you are this boy's friend, but I can not let personal feelings trump the kingdom's fate."

"Didn't you promise us to save Faris?!" Seya retorted with irritation, "Some words those were!"

The guards stained daggers at her, Vulcan nearly chuckled, "Yes, I'm a disgrace, I have no choice but to be as cautious as possible, as this is all new territory, but know this, I owe the boy, it is a debt not easily repaid, I will make sure he lives." He twisted a ring on his right pinky, making it so that the jewel faced his palm.

The group continued, Seya attempted to walk after them but was interrupted by a group of mages, holding a document. "By order of Royal Judge Silor, truth stones are to be used at 100% liberty for the duration of any and all investigations today. Lady Seya, daughter of former Council of Thirteen leader Jaya, I ask that you return to your interrogation room and begin complying, lest we hold you with contempt of the crown."

Seya ignored the man at first, but after watching Vulcan and his entourage enter the medical bay, she turned to her room. Stepping through the gaping entrance, she gave the dislodged door a well-practiced kick, denting it. She sat down, annoyed and angry, but kept the emotions from registering on her face. "Fine…" she answered mechanically, "I'll answer your blasted questions, it is not like I have any choice, do I?"

…

The ra'zac was strapped to a metal chair with iron chains tightly wound around him. The room was windowless, the only light being several dozen candles over the walls and table before him. On the other side of the table sat Vulcan, wrapping and unwrapping his fingers around his hammer. He glared at the Ra'zac, who glanced around the room, panicking as he awoke.

"The! The children?!" He began calling out several names, eventually, turning to Vulcan, he began to speak rapidly, mandibles clacking in agitation. "Are they safe!? Are the children safe!?"

Vulcan raised an eyebrow in surprise. The Ra'zac's breath had an ability that would put humans into a dull stupor. Elves were immune to it and would be the best bet to interrogating this creature. Unfortunately, very few elves were in the city, the few here were attending the great games. As a Dwarf, Vulcan would have better resistance than humans to the Ra'zac's breath, yet the Ra'zac's first words shook him far more than any such paralyzing breath would have.

"You, you ask of the children?" Vulcan asked after a moment of thought.

"Yes…?" The creature asked in slight confusion. "Are… are they safe?"

"They are," Vulcan answered, he narrowed his eyes as he saw the Ra'zac's shoulders slump in relief. It was an almost human reaction. "I have questions for you, creature. You best answer them."

"I… I, as long as the children are safe!" The ra'zac responded.

Vulcan frowned, "Well, first question, where did the children come from, did you kidnap them?"

"No… I did not, I, I protect them."

"You?!" Vulcan snorted, "You are a Ra'zac, you and your kin eat humans."

"No! I would never hurt the children! I do not eat them! I eat rats, cats, bats, mice, chicken, beef, but never children! Not humans!"

"You don't eat humans?" Vulcan asked incredulously, he placed a crystal in front of the ra'zac and nearly had a double-take as it gleamed blue.

"No, I do not, I could not, the children are human, eating...would hurt them, they are already hurt when I caught the cats to eat… so...I stop around them."

"Alright, on the assumption you are telling the truth, how do the children enter your… care?"

"Ronny brings them…"

…

"Where do you get these children from, Ronny? Do you kidnap them?" A man dressed in the Kingdom's Investigator regalia stood as they interrogated a child of about 10 years of age. The youth, a wispy boy with grey hair and eyes glared at the adults around him. "Answer us!" A guard growled, smacking the child in the face. He glared at them, then looked down, whispering.

"What?" Another guard asked, lowering his head. The child looked up and spat on his face. This elicited a punch from the guard.

"Olsten!" Multiple guards grabbed the offending guard, holding him forcing him out of the room. The investigator glared at them, then turned to the boy, who was bleeding from the blow.

The investigator took out a sheet of paper and began reciting a list of names out loud. He went through nearly 50 of them before stopping at the last of them. "Linus Wilkons…." The boy narrowed his eyes and turned away. "Well, Ronny, that is your name correct? That's what all the children called you. Anyway, Ronny, I'm impressed, 2 months, in two months 46 children disappeared from eastern slums. Of course, no one makes it a point to get a decent census of the rabble that slosh those streets, but still, 46 children, yet you were capable of organizing them, feeding them, clothing them, educating them, and entertaining them. This required resources. Ironically, Lord Wilkon's estate reported similar enough losses and minor thefts, enough to feed about 30 adult workers, but perhaps 50 or more children as well. Linus Wilkons was quite reluctant to speak when we interrogated him; but after a bit of coercion.."

"You wouldn't dare harm the brat of a noble, you'd lose your head." The boy spat.

"Just a month ago, an organization comprised of splinters of Galbatorix's old regime attempted to destroy this city, this act lost nearly 2,000 lives, 500 lives belonging to normal citizens outside the military or mage society. Before that, we discovered several nobles were in league with this same organization and had been giving them information on our defenses. Worse yet, one of the mage guilds were under the thrall of this group." The interrogator chuckled and adjusted his spectacles. "Lord Wilkons is a minor noble. I have convicted a Baron from the results of this investigation." He leaned down, "I do not fear whatever retribution he'd think to bring against me, not when the kingdom is at stake. And unless you wish to be one of the bodies cast to the side, you'd best speak."

Ronny remained silent, looking away tight-lipped.

The investigator smirked. "Alright then, if you still think to remain silent." He dropped a bloody ring in front of the boy, engraved on the ring was a feather with tree-like roots. "I'm sure you recognize the crest of the Wilkons' name."

Ronny stared at the man with a look of pure hatred and disgust.

The investigator continued, smile widening, "Linus was almost as stubborn as you're proving to be, but after a quick beating, probably the first one he ever received, well…"

"Bastard!" Ronny shouted angrily.

"Oh? Wasn't Linus just a 'brat' according to you? I mean, now that I think about it, he went missing just when Lord Wilkons increased the patrols around his storage and began setting traps for thieves. I have a very fun theory." He chuckled, "You, you are acquainted with Lord Wilkon's estate, I couldn't find your name on any registries, but on the list of deceased under that estate, included a young peasant woman with remarkably silver hair and eyes."

"Shut up!" Ronny shouted, eyes welling up.

"Ah well, regardless, it's truly a shame, whether he meant to or not, Linus stepping in between that guard and the Ra'Zac is a class 1 breach of conduct. In attempting to protect such a monster, he and his entire noble house will be put to death." Ronny paled. The investigator continued, "Unless of course, Ronny had been coerced…"

"...Fine! Yes! I did, I made Linus help us!" Ronny burst into tears.

"Oh?" The Interrogator turned, hiding a smile.

"Sir! Linus is innocent! He doesn't deserve this, let him come back home!"

"I'll try, but the evidence is hard stacked against him, perhaps if you explain everything, I'll be able to fight for his freedom."

The boy looked conflicted, then sighed.

"Okay… alright…" He looked to the side, "I… my parents worked under Linus's dad. My dad got sick and died, and, my mom couldn't take care of me with just what she was earning, but the Lord wouldn't pay her any more than she already made."

"So she had no choice but to 'entrust' you to the Lord for a sizeable amount of gold." The investigator frowned.

Ronny's face twisted in anger "Shut up!"

"Unfortunately, she ended up, dying of mysterious circumstances, and since she had 'entrusted' you to the Lord, those funds would go to your guardian before you come of age. Who also happened to be the Lord." He leaned down and put his hand on Ronny, "Ronny, look at me, those 'mysterious circumstances', you don't think they were so mysterious, do you?"

Ronny nodded. "He killed my mom…" he whispered, venom dripping from his voice.

The investigator placed his hand on Ronny's shoulder, the boy looked up at the man, his eyes, a clear blue even behind the spectacles, were unwavering, yet at the same time they betrayed a slight warmth and empathy. "I believe you, but I cannot act without proof. Now, if you can, please, answer some of my questions, how did you come across the Ra'zac?" He handed the boy a napkin to clean the blood from his lip.

As Ronny dabbed his mouth, he looked up at the investigator and began to finally speak, voice shaking. "I stole his egg…"

The investigator narrowed his eyes. "Stole… from, from the Noble?"

"After the lord... I was sent to work in the stables. The young lord, erm… Linus wasn't able to ride a horse yet, so other than regular brushing and monthly horseshoe changes, I was the only one who saw them."

"Saw who?"

"Two men speaking with the Lord, they handed him a bag of gold, and some other things. He handed it to a servant, and I followed the servant to a secret room."

"Is that where you found the Ra'zac egg?"

Ronny nodded, "I didn't know what it was, I just thought it was valuable since the Lord paid so much for it, so I took it, and the gold. Maybe the Lord saw me because men chased me and I ran into the sewers. I cut myself, and a bit of my blood hit the egg, and it hatched. At first, it, rags, tried to attack me, but he was so small and weak. I, I knew I should have probably killed him. But I couldn't, he began to starve, and so…. I decided to feed him rats. Even when he was as big as me, he wouldn't eat anything but rats and insects, then, after a month, he started understanding what I said, then he would talk back."

"He didn't attempt to attack you after the first incident?"

"No, he doesn't attack anyone unless he gets attacked first, except for rats and any animals close in size and similar, those he attacks and eats."

"Thank you, do you remember what the men looked like?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"It is alright, now, how does the Lord's son, Linus, fit into all of this…"

…

Vulcan eyed Faris as the latter wolfed down the meal before him. A hunk of beef, hearty stew packed with vegetables and brimming with enough spice to make the dwarven rider tear up even from a distance, and two hard biscuits that he softened by dipping into the stew. In what seemed like seconds, the boy managed to tear through a meal that men thrice his size would find extremely filling. In that same breath, The boy grabbed the nearby wooden cup full of freshly boiled then cooled water and drank it in three heavy gulps. Releasing a deep sigh, he turned to Vulcan.

"Alright, what do you want from me? Though, if I can answer a few of the assumed questions early, I was in the sewers because I was told there was a Ra'zac, I had gone to the guardhouse to warn them when they ignored me I took it upon myself to enter the sewers myself. We met each other due to them looking for missing children, so we accompanied each other. We were attacked by an unknown assailant who was revealed to be a Ra'zac, and after his defeat we had him lead us to all the children, safe and sound. Then we were attacked by the enhanced children, who restrained the Ra'zac, killed the guards, tried to kill me, then you arrived."

"How were you able to put up a fight?"

Vulcan watched the boy smile as he answered. "Well," he began, "I had a few tricks, a miniature version of that ballistics weapon I used against the mage team I defeated a long time ago. Throwing weapons at them, evidently, I didn't win, did I?" Faris smiled bitterly, "Anyways, is there something you need?" Vulcan looked at Faris hard. Faris slowly stopped smiling, "If you have a question for me, why don't you just ask me in the ancient language? We live in dangerous times after all."

Vulcan turned around, "You helped me foster peace between clan Vrenshrrgn and the Catch-Tooth Urgal tribe. I, I'll trust you."

Faris's smile dropped, "...Thank you." After a few seconds, he pushed away from the empty plate and stretched, "Okay, I have a full stomach, what do you actually need?"

"Did you find anything of note, relating to the attacks on the dwarves?"

"Yes actually," Faris stood up straight, "The Ra'zac was using a bow with black-feathered arrows."

Vulcan narrows his eyes, "Do you think?"

"The Ra'zac killed them? Perhaps, Ra'zacs can't be detected by humans via even magic normally, so perhaps, but a human did buy those arrows, that's what the investigation leads me to believe, so even if the Ra'zac killed them…"

"There are others involved." Vulcan looked in deep thought.

"I just have one suggestion." Faris offered, "If it turns out that the Ra'zac wasn't responsible for their deaths, don't kill it."

"Why?" Vulcan asked quizzically.

"I'm curious, it didn't attempt to eat us, so, perhaps there's a way Ra'zac can be born without a desire for preying on humans consistently, like this one."

"I'll… consider your words, if the creature did not kill humans, or kill the three members of Vrenshrrgn, then I will consider interceding on its behalf. What about you?"

Faris smirked, "When's the race?"

"The two races between the human disciples of your mage and warrior factions have already occurred, I'm sorry."

"I know, I didn't enter that, I entered the race for all contenders."

"Really? Why? While there is a larger number of accepted victors due to the larger swell of candidates, humans on average do worse than even the dwarves that are chosen for their sprinting speed, and while a few humans are swift enough to keep up with the Urgals, the consistent victors of the race are the Kulls and Elves, why would you enter?"

Faris smiled, "I had little desire racing against fellow students, and I had an inkling that I wouldn't be able to enter either race, as my knight squad already asked that I not attend the first race with them."

Vulcan narrows his eyes, "Is there a conflict between you and your team?"

"A little." Faris replied honestly, "But it's adolescent hormones." He laughed, getting up, "Ooh, I see the mages healed me, thank you. When is the race for all peoples?"

"You have an hour."

Faris's smile faltered, and leaping off his bed, he sprinted out. Vulcan smiled ruefully as he watched the boy leave, but did not notice how Faris's eyes flickered from their pale blue to a deep crimson…


	21. Chapter 21

Faris's mindscape was uniquely tailored to fit his mood and psyche, when he was growing up, it was represented as a blank white room with a table in the center with two chairs. When he retreated into his mind, both chairs were seated, Damien in one, Faris in the other. When Faris took in Anya's memories, a vault was created in the back of his mind and appeared in his mindscape, within this vault, he began to sequester the memories of those he defeated, those he defeated and took the memories off. After Anya came Uglauw and his men, then when Tartarus had taken over, the members of the Scarlet Heart that were part of Dr. Mandel's retinue that had been slaughtered by the shade had their memories absorbed in as well. When Faris lost his magic, his access to this section of his mind severed, the table broke, and one of the chairs disappeared. The vault's door cracked, and the memories flooded out, attempting to take over and suppress Faris's soul and identity, as well as suppress each other. Each memory cluster was complete enough to form a consciousness with a pseudo will of its own, each with their own agenda. It was in this chaotic mix that a concentration of memories and experiences alien to all the others gathered together, only to be absorbed by the only being capable of understanding them, the spirit that fused with Faris in the first place. After absorbing the collected experience of the several destroyed spirits put into Faris during the doctor's attempt to create a new enhanced child, the spirit absorbed and suppressed the other memories before turning his sight on Faris's mind, biding his time and waiting for a moment where Faris would be at his weakest before taking over. Ironically, it was the enhanced children again that caused the merge of human and spirit, but things were a little different.

Within Faris's mindscape, Tartarus could sense the physical appearance he took on within Faris's mind, he resembled Faris but was ghostly pale, with sickly white skin that looked as if the blood had drained from his body, his hair, a dusky dark red, reached to his waist and ended in small curls, and jutting from his head were antler-like horns, growing from his forehead, white as snow and ending in dark red to almost black tips as sharp as spears, the root of his horns jutting from just above his eyebrows, with some branches curling around his head like a crown of spikes. He grinned, canines and molars spiked like the teeth of a predator, and looked upon an unconscious Faris. "It's quite humorous," the shade began, "Spirits have no corporeal form, but in your head, I look a bit like you, I don't know whether that means I'm more human than I thought, or you're monstrous than you'd like to believe, but it's quite funny, especially when your other half, despite being so different physically, is closer to you in thought process than I ever could or would be." Tartarus narrowed his eyes, despite his best efforts, he could not find the consciousness or will that was known as Damien within Faris's psyche, nor could he find its traces within the other memories of the people he and Faris had slain, at first, he had assumed that Damien was simply fake, but the more he thought on it, the more suspicious it seemed, especially given the fact that Faris still had access to the memories Damien experienced first and foremost. After taking over Faris's body, and even while he had fought the enhanced children, Tartarus had combed through the child's memories and had seen how Angela had caused the incident that separated Faris's and Damien's mind enough to create the two distinct consciousnesses within their shared body. Despite their separation being caused by magic, he would have felt it if their consciousnesses recombined, but they did not, he would also have detected if Damien's mind was broken or absorbed by his or the pseudo wills created from the various memories Faris absorbed, but that was not the case either, it was as if the collection of memory and the force that held it together that created the will called Damien simply disappeared. Tartarus was curious about that, but aside from these curiosities, he simply enjoyed having control of Faris's body and desired to cause havoc and destruction as he had originally planned. "But not yet, not yet," He needed power, as potent as the green crystal sliver jammed in his heart was in both absorbing magic and allowing him to nullify the magic in others with his blood, he was still vulnerable to the physical changes in the world caused by the spells, and even worse so, his physical ability was mostly limited to human power, in which even attempting to go past the normal human limits would destroy his muscles, tissues, and bone, like it did against his fight against the enhanced children earlier in the day.

"Hahaha, that was only an overnight to early morning affair." Tartarus mused, smirking at his fortune, "The Owl and Werecat must be worried for this body," He ignored the odd stares made towards him as he sprinted towards Gurant's home, thinking first and foremost about how to maximize his time and escape scrutiny if his mind and mannerisms were observed. So distracted within his thoughts that he was, that he did not look up in time, and crashed into a figure.

"Watch where yer going brat!" A drunken voice called out to him. Tartarus looked up to see one of the residents of the slums who liked to beg for alms and money near the blacksmith district. "Ooh, I remember you, you're that kid with the old man, hehe, could you, perhaps have another donation you can make? I'm mighty thirsty you see." The man grinned, flashing a yellow smile.

"Amazing…." Tartarus began.

"Excuse me?"

"Look at how yellow those things are, and your breath, how the hell do you still have all your teeth? I'd have imagined they'd have rotted and fallen off by now."

The man's face, already flushed with alcohol, turned an even deeper red as he stumbled towards the boy. "Why… how dare you!"

Tartarus waited for the man to step within range, then kicked him in the groin, as the man collapsed he grabbed the empty bottle in the man's hand, smashed it across the man's face, then grabbed the man by the collar of the shirt to keep him from collapsing. Holding the intact half of the broken bottle, he held it close to the drunk man's face, a point dangerously close to the older man's Adam's apple.

"How dare I?" Tartarus began, eyes beginning to turn red, "How dare you, you disgusting piece of vermin, I would be content leaving you to your pastime of begging for alms day in and out, your survival means little to me either way, but to get in my way?" He laughed, dropping the man, "what's your name?"

The man blustered out a few hasty apologies, scrambling up, he flinched when Tartarus repeated his question. "My name is Goose, sir!"

The man was gangly and had a long nose, his jaw and hair were full of grey and white hairs, and in Tartarus's silence, he could hear the man's hoarse breathing, which created a honk like noise. Tartarus smiled, "hilarious, alright Goose, as you can see, you now owe me because I have chosen not to kill you." He watched, hiding his glee as the man gulped nervously. "In exchange for my kindness, I'll need you to do me a favor. Find out how many other people are like you, without a home, with little or no wealth, family, or friends, of low… social status, and so on and so forth. You know, garbage, people the city doesn't remember or care about." He dropped the bottle, listening as it shattered fully upon impact with the floor. "I'll give you two days to give me at least three names and locations, that should be… simple." He turned to leave, "oh, and, the guard chapter in this area? It will take some time for them to be reinstated, so don't get any bright ideas, I mean? Who's going to believe you anyway?" He turned, and once out of sight from the man, sprinted towards Gurant's home.

Upon reaching Faris's home, he found the door unlocked. Narrowing his eyes, he entered the narrow hallway leading to the kitchen and dining area. Upon reaching the end of the hallway, he relaxed, seeing Martha holding a bundle of various foodstuffs from the local market. She peered over the side, seeing Faris. Immediately setting down her groceries, she went up to him, concerned. "Faris? Are you alright? You're in a hospital gown?"

"I'm alright." Tartarus replied, "I broke my arm training, so I quickly rushed to have it healed." He relaxed his face and gave an easy-going smile, swinging his left arm side to side to corroborate his deception and assuage her worry. "I'm fine, better than fine actually, I just need to change really quickly and get to the venue, I only have about half an hour before it starts after all."

After a few seconds of silence, Martha eventually nodded. "Alright, would you like me to fix you a snack as you change? Something to take with you?"

"Nothing really, I'll just eat a double helping when I get back." Tartarus chuckled lightly, eliciting a laugh from Martha. Smiling at his success, the shade in disguise entered Faris's room, watching as two pairs of eyes stared back at him. His, their, Faris's room was still dark, Faris had turned off any lights, blown out any candles, and closed all his windows before he left to deal with the ra'zac, and it seemed that Minnie and Ventus had waited for him in here. Tartarus felt himself smile uncontrollably at the sight of them, and somehow felt relief in seeing them, a feeling and thought he dashed away with severe prejudice. Still smiling, he looked at Minnie."

Human? She asked, apprehensively, feeling something different about the boy before her.

"Yes and no," Tartarus replied, shrugging, "though our deal remains the same, so you need not worry, I have no reason to change Faris's bargain, and you probably don't really need to care either way." Based on Faris's experience, werecats were sensitive to emotions even without connecting their minds, so Tartarus took the time to suppress his natural bloodlust around Minnie, of course, Ventus was also confused, Faris's spell enchanted the crystal in the collar around the bird's neck to react to hostility and danger, it was likely giving the owl mixed signals about Faris. Yet the owl's sight, smell, and hearing still registered the same being. It was probably for this reason that Ventus did not speak, but also did not hiss or screech at the shade. Still lightly smiling, Tartarus found a small icebox, opening it, he pulled out a back full of strips of dry and lightly seasoned meat, tossing a decent amount to both Ventus and Minnie. They regarded the food, looking at the boy warily, he simply went to change.

Ventus and Minnie, both younger than 8, yet as intelligent if not more intelligent than the average human adult, looked at each other wordlessly, without even exchanging thoughts they seemed to convey their discomfort with the situation, a discomfort heightened by singing emanating from Faris's mouth. It wasn't a song either of them had heard, not from Faris before, nor from any of the many minstrels within the city, it was somewhat haunting and soulful, but terrifying at the same time.

As he lightly sang, Tartarus rifled through Faris's clothes, finding what he was looking for, he smiled. "Moron didn't even wear this for that fight." He said in a singsong voice, he looked down on a pair of odd-looking boots. The boots, while extremely thick, seemed normal enough from the front, but reached up to his knees, covered in pads of relatively thickness protecting his knees and shin like armor, the boot itself had steel toes, courtesy of the steel making machine Faris and Gurant developed. Tartarus put them on and reflexively stretched his legs out, testing his ankle movement, satisfied with his movement he strapped the boots on tightly and stepped out.

"Bye guys." He said softly, keeping a mocking tone away from his voice. He observed himself in the mirror, then smirked, dashing outside. The area he was in was one of the locations hit by the impromptu invasion, and whilst most of the damage was repaired, much of the scaffolding remained. Climbing up such a thing was a simple endeavor, and reaching the relatively flat rooftops of the slums, on the ground, it would take him nearly an hour to get to the venue, but going via the roof too would take less than five minutes due to building proximity. Sitting down he extended his legs, making sure his soles weren't on the floor, to the sides of the boots were bolts, after a few test-pulls, Faris unscrewed them, a slick 'shhck' sound rung out as the soles of his boots extending 6 inches below him. Unfurling a strap behind his hamstrings, an elastic strap ending in a metal bar curved out, acting as secondary support to the stilt-like addition to the soles of his feet. Where joints met were a complicated mix of steel springs, elastic bands made of rubber harvested from trees shipped from forests close to the border with Surda, created using Faris's extensive knowledge, the contraption could best be defined as jumping stilts, with an added measure of elasticity allow each foot to absorb enough energy to launch Faris at least 4 feet into the air from the ground to the bottom of the contraption, and a massive 3-7 feet forward depending on the angle of launch. When hopping with both feet together parallel to each other, like Tartarus was doing as he leaped across building roofs, one would resemble a kangaroo but only move at half to three-fourths of its speed, but even then, Faris moved faster than an average human running, Tartarus smirked to himself, Faris had some practice riding horses before, but with the speed of his hopping, he outpaced the average horse's movements in all but gallops. The ground quickly retreated from his view but rushed back just as quickly whenever Tartarus glanced down to make sure he cleared a roof, and eventually when he could see the building outline of the pavilion, he leapt off a building onto the ground. A few people looked his way, eyes widening in shock, Tartarus smirked, landing and immediately launching himself forward with extreme velocity, legs curled back almost touching his spine. The next bounce was lessened, then the next after, until finally, he was able to move in a relatively awkward but quick shuffle, a sort of half shuffling half jogging movement that caused more people to look his way as he passed by them, looks of shock replaced with laughter over the ridiculous display…

"Hello? Sir? You are entered in the race? You'll need to hurry, it starts in only a few minutes." A receptionist sat behind thick glass and a desk, she looked at the boy, who stood almost as tall as the average man with the stilts he had underneath. "Ermm… what are those?"

"My invention." Tartarus replied nonchalantly, "designed to help me run."

The woman looked at the child dubiously. "Really?" He was wearing a long-sleeved, loose-fitting shirt, and baggy leggings that ended in the boots connected to the contraption. Even as he stood still, every slight movement would cause him to shake and jiggle, the springs and bands making slight squeaking noises. The woman hid her smile as she watched on, after a few seconds she spoke again. "This is a race you are entering, you understand we are not responsible for any injuries you incur, and you are responsible for any injuries you cause to yourselves or others in the case of an accident, be you at fault, correct?"

Tartarus nodded. The woman shrugged and handed him a tag to place on his shirt. "Let's see, your name?"

"Faris Ser," Tartarus replied.

"Oh?" The woman recognized the name somewhat, but couldn't recall it fully. "Well, good luck."

Tartarus smiled, "I don't really need it." There were no rules for the third race other than one couldn't ride a horse or use spells to hamper other's movements. This third race was special compared to the first two, which were more like shows of simple physical fitness between various students and citizens. As such there were several obstacles throughout the race with scenarios that may favor one race over another. There were various rewards and accolades within each race's brackets, as well as with the whole race, for this reason, despite elves normally winning, humans, Urgals, and dwarves had close times. Tartarus made his way to the starting line…

Venka sat quietly, the room was dark, lit only by a few candles. In the center of the room, Farooq stood, his black robe and dark skin allowing him to blend into the gloom. "I am different from most sorcerers." Farooq began, his voice echoing slightly. "Tell me, Venka, what do you know of sorcerery?"

"Umm, you, call on spirits to cast spells you don't have the magical capacity to achieve?" Venka recalled what she learned in classes, sorcery, while not a major topic, was covered slightly. "Summoning a spirit is a battle of both magical capacity and will power, if you aren't careful, the spirit you summon may have a stronger will, and if that happens you'll die and become a shade…"

Farooq smiled, "Yes, correct. But there is a bit more to learn and understand." He raised his hands and began speaking out in the ancient language. "Each spirit has a title, a name in the ancient language or in their own language that they can be referred to as." Orbs of light, spirits, began appearing, they surrounded Farooq at first, then began to hum brightly, moving towards Venka. "Spirits are beings, they grow, learn, and communicate, they feast on magic, heat, and light. And they have an affinity for those with magic."

Venka looked at the multicolored, iridescent orbs, entranced by the humming, chirping sounds emanating. "They're… really pretty."

"Extremely dangerous as well." Farooq barked out a few clipped words, and with an annoyed sounding whine, the spirits retreated from Venka, Farooq took out a crystal, and the spirits swarmed it for a few seconds before retreating and disappearing. "A spirit's temperament is dependent on its age, and whether it had been a spirit merged with a corporeal body, forming a shade. The youngest spirits are the most docile, but they have little skill, they have an innate understanding of the intricacies and rules of magic, and can bypass the normal physical laws without expending nearly as much energy as you or I would have to." He brought forth a flower made of solid gold, with pearlescent petals. Venka looked at the flower, entranced by its beauty.

"The spirit… made this?"

"No, they changed it, it was once a normal Lily, but now, it is made of pure gold, diamond, and pearl, yet it is still alive. In fact, this is likely not the original, but one of its children budded from the countless seeds."

Venka looked at Farooq dubiously. The Surdan mage simply smiled, "reach your mind out to it."

Venka, after a bit of hesitation, nodded, reaching her mind out. She stood, shocked, "h-how?"

Farooq shrugged, "the spirits told me a few of their brethren did this to thank ShadeSlayer for his actions in the dispatching of Durza."

"Spirits don't like shades?"

"Their relationship is a bit more complex than simple like or dislike, some spirits crave the ability to take over a mortal body if only for a small amount of time, a body allows them to amass greater levels of power due to mortal beings naturally replenishing their stamina through food and sleep. Other spirits detest the idea of being bound in a mortal coil, but for both groups, there is the understanding that such a union is extremely painful, painful enough that all but the most docile and good-natured of spirits and mortals combining would end up as insane psychopaths." Farooq raised a finger, "of course, shades regain a semblance of sanity, and a will and identity composed of their spirit or spirits and the being that paired with them, time and intelligence will mellow a shade, but shades are still incredibly dangerous."

"Do, are spirits alive?" Venka asked, recalling how Seya mercilessly destroyed a few that escaped from the shade they slew together some months ago.

"A spirit would probably argue that it is as much a being as you or I. They can be born, grow, feed in their own way, and can be killed, though this is rare, oftentimes only spirits can kill other spirits, but a sufficient level of magic can allow someone to kill a spirit, but if you kill a spirit, you'll lose their goodwill for the rest of your existence, and humans are already the race spirits trust the least." He smiled, "Any more questions?"

Venka hesitated for a few seconds, "can… are, can the original human return from a shade?"

Farooq looked at Venka, her green eyes sparkling with a resolute will that hid the grief she carried. "Ah, about young Faris, you hold him in high regard." Venka did not answer, but Farooq nodded, speaking, "Venka, do you know why I asked you to come under my tutelage?"

Venka shook her head, "No, I assumed perhaps because of my magic capacity you wanted me to join your mage guild, but you haven't mentioned it at all."

Farooq smiled, "your magic capacity played a part in this, there are three factors that determine the risk of becoming a shade from summoning a spirit, the spirit's temperament, the summoner's magic capacity, and most importantly, the will power of the beings. A more powerful spirit will attempt to test the boundary of your contract and face you in a battle of will, but a higher magic capacity naturally makes them less likely to attempt to shirk your authority, if, like me, one lacks a large amount of magic, they make do with a strong will, forcing the spirit into submission." He frowned, "a powerful will can stop a spirit from taking over, and force it to comply, but even with a powerful will, I have never encountered a person fight back against a spirit after the fusion has already occurred. There is a silver lining however, the more powerful the human will, the more like the original human the spirit is, my assumption is Faris's will was strong enough for him to retain his identity, give an account by Eragon ShadeSlayer and Queen Arya of the elves, spirits fled Galbatorix's body upon his death, but no internal records speak of his personality changing drastically past his original turn to madness upon the death of his dragon."

"We learned about that." Venka said, "and that he was trained by a shade. Couldn't he have absorbed spirits back then?"

"Spirits don't refer to themselves by the original human's name if they won the battle of will. But the human's physical features don't change if they win either, Faris is a rare case, the only of his case. Hopefully, if you gain knowledge of spirits, you can find the answer yourself to Faris's status, at the least though, thanks to his own oaths, whether shade or not, you are the only one he will never harm, you seem to be quite special to him."

Venka blushed, but smiled sadly, "we don't talk as much as we should."

Farooq sighed, "our first lesson is almost complete, I'll teach you the words for spirit summoning, you'll memorize them, then, you can go, perhaps you'll catch him at a good time since this was a personal lesson you have the rest of the day free when you'd be in class otherwise."

"Thank you, teacher!" Venka said, putting on a serious face as Farooq taught her the words…

"You're an odd human." A beautiful voice called out.

Tartarus glanced at the source of the sound, a tall elf woman, standing nearly at a Kull's height, with a slim body resembling that of a ballet dancer, looked at him, smiling with friendliness.

Tartarus scoffed, "and you're an odd elf, is your height magically induced, or are all your family members so gigantic?"

The elf woman frowned at his annoyed tone. "Am I bothersome?"

"A little, I'm trying to listen to the announcer's rules, we don't all have superior hearing you know." Tartarus ignored the glares of the human and elven men near him.

Weyonna, that was the elf's name, was a tall woman of inhuman beauty, enough that she seemed popular amongst both elf and human men, some of whose gazes lingered a second longer than normal, the sight of even the normally composed elves ogling anyone, even another elf, made Tartarus burst into laughter, something he immediately halted, cursing at his own body's immaturity. His outburst had gotten Weyonna's attention, and after a few seconds of prolonged eye contact, Weyonna eyed his jumping stilts, Tartarus had averted his eyes then and had let out an annoyed sigh, which sparked Weyonna's attempt to broach him in conversation.

"I apologize for my rudeness." The elf woman simply smiled, folding her arms and lightly bowing, an expression of sorrow enough to make hardened criminals weep emerged from her face, causing many of the men watching to feel blood rush to their faces, Tartarus simply narrowed his eyes.

"As long as you understand," Tartarus smirked, he had been somewhat worried, with Faris's mind so strong, he had believed he would be more influenced by the boy's budding emotions, and knowing that the boy was beginning to develop physically and mentally had introduced a potential fear of puberty leading to distractions. So far, however, no woman he had seen caught his gaze, and for that matter, as a matter of pragmatic preparation, no man had also caught Faris's or by extension, Tartarus's gaze. Such emotions as love or lust were useless to Tartarus, and while Faris seemed to have some tiny experience with these emotions, they seemed too weak to sway Tartarus, especially in his catatonic state, the only major vice Tartarus suffered as a result of Faris was his voracious appetite and almost psychotic curiosity, both annoyances Tartarus found himself quite happy indulging in when he could, the emotion he was most surprised to encounter however was Faris's wrath, the heat of rage and hatred, both projected outwards and inwards amused the spirit. Eventually, he zoned back into the announcer's speech, catching the announcement of the race commencing in half a minute.

"Hey, ms elf." Tartarus began.

"Hmm?" The woman turned to Faris, curious as to the amiable shift in his tone.

"I have a wager for you. I'm testing these boots out, if I keep up with or even beat you in this race, I'd like you to fill a gemstone of mine with a bit of magical energy…."


	22. Chapter 22

Weyonna eyed the boy dubiously. The shafts and springs on the contraption that extended from his boots resembled the limbs of four-legged animals that walked on their toes, so she assumed that this item's purpose was to allow him to move faster, but even then, she was skeptical of its practical application. "It is an interesting looking instrument," she admitted, "but I doubt it will provide you with any appreciable level of speed."

"Well, then you have nothing to worry about right?" Tartarus asked smirking.

"And, what will I receive for winning?" Weyonna asked.

"Mmmm…. I… can... probably get you a meeting with Vulcan and Volund."

"You're close to the rider?" Weyonna asked dubiously, her eyes raised as he repeated himself in the ancient language, taking an almost manic gleam. "Lord Volund is a very reserved dragon, he barely spoke to non-dragons or riders during his and Lord Vulcan's training… I always wanted to speak with them. But I don't believe a human could ever control a dragon's choices, especially if not even their rider."

Tartarus noted Weyonna's word choice, she stated "human" and made the comparison of the human even being a rider not being able to control a dragon. The fact she mentioned humans over any other of the races belied her prejudice, no matter how politely she approached or how widely she smiled. Her hidden arrogance made Tartarus like her slightly, arrogance was a trait the strong should have over the weaker. He smiled, contemplating how best to manipulate her. Tone softening, Tartarus put on an innocent smile. "Oh, I don't dare pretend to have the authority to move a being as great as a dragon, my humble life is but a fleck of dust compared to a dragon's years."

Weyonna smiled at his words, "Dragons are truly impressive." Either ignoring Tartarus's self-deprecating words or already accepting them as fact.

"But such a great dragon in all his magnanimity likely has more than enough time to turn his attention to a single speck, and if that speck is trying to introduce an elf of beauty and grace? He'd certainly lend an ear, if only for a little time." Tartarus added then in the ancient language, "Volund-elda has taken the time to speak to me." Then continued outside of it, "So he'd definitely take the time for you."

Weyonna smiled lightly, "alright, and I simply have to win correct?"

"Yes please, I wish to test the capabilities of these shoes, I wouldn't dare believe I'd win, but if I can test its results against that of an elf's, well, that would simply be amazing." Weyonna turned, elves had a love for all the children of each race and animal, new life was always something to be celebrated, and for short-lived races like humans, seeing such infectious excitement was always thrilling, especially when compared to the dull niceties of elf life.

"Well, if you wanted to introduce me to a Rider, there were better ways to ask than placing it on such a silly bet," Weyonna said, looking ahead.

Tartarus hid his smirk, this elf was a little too easy to take advantage of, it was to the point he actually felt a bit sorry for her naivety. Sorry? He thought to himself, Why would I feel pity… it will simply make my life easier. Wrestling with his emotions, he missed the start signal and hesitated slightly as the racers began to surge forward, leaving him behind.

Weyonna was quite quick, of the elves participating, she was the only one who regularly ran within the forest of Du Weldenvarden, exploring nature by cutting off her mind in order to make every experience a surprising one, she had no particular job, and was on the younger end for an elf, and thus, had much more free time than the average elf. As she jogged past the humans and other elves, she reminisced, she had been young when Galbatorix had killed Vrael, only a few years old, and she had been gripped in terror at the time. She feared that with the riders and dragons gone, he would sink his fangs into their forest. That fear slowly turned into anger, as it seemed like he would never leave his fortress home. When the eggs were rescued, she was ecstatic, though, like many of the younger elves, she disliked the fact it would ever pass through human hands. She had remembered arguing with the elders over allowing humans in the Varden to try the egg, and when for years, the egg didn't hatch, she was somewhat happy, thinking this was a punishment for trying to use the very same humans who led to their downfall. She had been horrified to find out that Arya, Faolin, and Glenwing had been ambushed, and Arya captured. When they learned of a new rider, most elves were ecstatic, but elves like her and Vanir were distraught, upset that a human would be chosen. They were of course proven wrong, as Eragon proved to be the reason for Galbatorix's downfall, defeating the king not with power, or knowledge in the Ancient Language, but by a stubborn clinging to empathy, a spell created from the depths of despair. She remembered the first time she had heard the Story from an elder, who had beseeched Eragon to explain the thought process of his spell. She realized that as a long-lived race, a spell like Eragon's was one none of them would have ever thought to have even tried. Weyonna, unlike Vanir, who gained respect for humans based on understanding their tenacity through Eragon, gained respect for humans through their ability to make do with what they had, while still striving for what they knew may have been beyond them. She smiled ruefully.

"That human child seemed awfully excitable, I can understand an obstinate fellow like a dwarf finding his enthusiasm entertaining, and since he's a child, he can get away with it, for now." She giggled, thinking about meeting Vulcan, but especially Volund, she had been unable to gain an audience with them, they, amongst all the rider and dragon pairs, were the most standoffish when it came with dealing with the elves, and at one point stated that if they continued to hound Vulcan with questions about Volund, he would simply retreat from Alagaesia indefinitely. For this reason, several elven scholars, curious about Volund's differences to those of a typical dragon and rider pair and desperate for a chance to one day speak to the dragon, beseeched Arya to place a literal curse of silence on the elven people in order to keep any from bothering Vulcan for a time until his tempers were cooled, Arya had refused but had told her people to calm down, there were other dragons and riders who were perfectly content to have songs sung about them, poems read to them, and compliments showering them. Weyonna though shook her head, remembering the uproar that occurred when it was found that it was Volund who disliked all the attention, as opposed to Vulcan simply exerting his will. This made any memory of interacting with Volund precious to their people. The boy spoke in the ancient language that he knew Vulcan and Volund, and while one could omit some of the truth, his wording implied that they viewed each other in a positive light. "This may be-" her musings were cut off by a metallic creaking sound, it had a bouncy tone to it, short and quick, like the noises people made when imitating the bounce of a hare. She turned, and gawked, watching as the boy she had just met leapt forward, bouncing on his odd contraption. He smiled at her briefly, then returned to looking forward, face contorted in deep concentration.

Tartarus took a few minutes to get the hang of the strength of the spring, but once he got the rhythm going, he was able to optimize his bounce, extending the location he would land as far ahead as possible by leaning back, he'd use the momentum and his weight to shift forward, then, leaning as far forward as possible, at times his nose almost scraped the ground, and bounced forward, lifting his legs as high as he could, which, with his flexibility, was quite high, tucking them first to the sides then moving them in front of him before leaning back to continue the cycle. His head remained hunched and his arms seldom moved, shifting in tandem to maintain his balance. Eventually, he fell, but he got back up, making note of the limits of his balance. He had sailed past most of the human and dwarven runners by that point, surprising them with his contraption, a few of the elves who simply jogged at a leisurely pace also watched him, surprised. Tartarus continued leaping forward, aided by the springs and resembling a kangaroo, every once in a while, he'd need to use his hands when he over-corrected his landing, but for the most part, he was able to continue forward at a decent pace. "This is… about 15 miles per hour." It was a decent pace, but he didn't believe he'd catch up. "Oh well, it's still impressive, and it's certainly garnering attention." But it seemed that his challenge didn't take the race as seriously, as she had only been jogging at a relatively normal pace after securing a lead for herself. This caused Tartarus to smile as he crouched into his landing, putting all the effort he could into leaping forward at a quicker pace. As he passed by her, he took note of her shock, smiling briefly before returning to his task.

Weyonna for her part began to slow in surprise. The boy was quite fast on the contraption, by no means comparable to a horse, but still faster than any human boy his age could be. She felt a competitive spirit flare-up within her, and began to pick up the pace, overtaking the passing the boy.

Tartarus, after getting into the groove of his movements, felt an exhilarating rush of emotions and energy, he felt like he was flying whenever he leapt off from the ground, and then the rush of his body to the earth caused his heart to pound, but if someone were to see his face, they'd see an extremely angry looking boy. Why… why am I excited? This feels like, pride? But… there's no reason for that." He shook his head, then flinched as Weyonna zoomed past him. See… that speed, aided by no tools, I lost my magic… through my own… foolish- what? He growled, I see… that's where Donovan went… his eyes began to glow red. As they did, his movements began to speed up, he leaned forward until his nose barely scraped the ground, then crouched and leapt out, rocketing forward at a greater pace than he had before, as he did, mid-air, he began to twist and prod the tools at his shins and feet, increasing the cords and springs' tension, this would give him only milliseconds to shift his position before he would leap forward, but he felt that if he didn't do this, he would lose, and at this moment, losses were unacceptable. He sprung forward, the wind whipping at his hair and stinging his eyes, every time he crouched then extended his legs, his muscles and bones would creak in protest, but he ignored that. Tartarus was a Shade, the pain was simply a part of mortal existence, and he enjoyed it thoroughly, relished it. Soon, his speed surpassed that of an average horse's gallop, and he overtook Weyonna, who simply laughed before shifting into a full sprint, springing forward with the grace of a gazelle and destroying parts of the earth beneath her with the speed of her sprint. Tartarus watched her for a few seconds, then began attempting to mimic her. When he lept into the air, instead of landing with both legs, he chose to land with only one, he felt a sharp pain in his left leg, but did not collapse, shifting his weight forward with the single leg, he leapt forward, landing on the right, then doing the same, his movement now resembling an ostrich instead of a kangaroo. He didn't care about determining his speed, only that now he was faster than the elf again, but only barely. A sharp pain filled his legs, like a long spear of ice and fire stabbed into his soles, going up his feet and twisting and rattlin its way into his kneecaps, and his vision burred, it was different from the pain of being stabbed, or punched, or attacked mentally, it was physical and internal, yet he did not stop, before he could slow down, his other leg would land, using the momentum to push himself forward, keeping his general speed at it's fastest. Weyonna could only watch in awe as he slowly pushed past her, racing to the finish line…

"Well, you seem to not be enjoying yourself."

Seya rolled her eyes, she was clothed in a simple brown dress, with her hair in a ponytail, slung to her side was a waterskin, and underneath her skirt, a dagger was strapped to her leg. She dearly wished to take it out and stab it into her companion. But unfortunately for her, he had chosen mostly public locations near guards, while she could handle them and make an easy escape, it would look bad on her friends and father, so she refrained from taking any real action. "I'd rather be doing anything else than spending time with a bastard like you, but a wager is a wager, so I'm honoring it, you only have a few minutes left on this… date... anyways, so I don't need to pretend to have enjoyed any second of it."

Donovan frowned, face crinkling in mock sadness, "Aww, I thought my skills would have wooed you by now."

"Shut up, you have the charm of a sick bull and features of a starved dog."

"Now…" Donovan laughed, "That was a lie." He cut a striking figure and was quite muscular, mixed with his height and exotic features, many women, young and old, looked his way, but to Seya, his features weren't enough to sway her.

"Whether it is or is not, you're foolish to think you can even attempt to shake my heart. Do you think I'm a dog to woo with sweet words of affection and a few treats? Especially after tricking me and my friends?"

"Of course not, I'm just truly interested in you, Seya," Donovan said, looking at her seriously. "You're quite unique, and I felt a treasure like you would compliment the great me in more ways than one."

Seya scoffed, "I have no value politically or socially, my father is no longer a member of the council, and really, the great you? I've never heard of you before, where were you in our school? Hmm? If you are truly so great, do you expect me to believe you are some savant in magic or swordplay? Especially since 'this great you,' lost to my speed."

"Didn't you just say I tricked you? What makes you certain I tried my best? I will prove myself as the greatest mage. Human, elf, dwarf, urgal, rider, shade? They'll all be nothing to me; if you can't see my greatness, however, fine, I'm a kind man, your friends may be more discerning, she's not my taste, but the redhead has greater magical capacity than you do, and her naivety seems delicious." He blocked Seya's punch, eyes changing to an electrical blue as he stared her down.

Seya's eyes began to gleam gold, but then, they stopped glowing, and she burst out laughing. "You're a clown. That was," She fell to the floor, laughing and making a scene.

"What?" Donovan's face twisted into a frown. "What about me is funny?" He glanced around, self-conscious at the negative attention being sent his way. His face darkened, "And what is so funny woman?!"

"That… th-that y-you'd think Venka would even look your way ahahahaahahaha!" She rolled around for a bit, ignoring the onlookers before getting up, wiping a few tears from her eyes, "She only has eyes for one person, and I can tell you quite simply that it would be impossible to meet her expectations if you even attempted to gain her confidence."

"What… you mean Faris Ser? I've heard of him, I've seen the recordings of his duels, he's mediocre at best, barely won against ten weakling mages, I would have crushed them in seconds." He grinned, "In fact, I'll prove it to you, though, unfortunately, he doesn't even have the ability to stand with me, the fact he's not here, in these games, means that he's simply useless, where was he in the student races? In fact, what would he even do, he lost his magic, right?" He smirked, pointing a finger at Seya, "You think he's exceptional? I'll prove to you just how deluded you all are." They turned at the sound of loud excited cheering, staring in confusion. Donovan had dragged Seya over to the racing venue to watch the non-students race for the last bit of their date, doing so mostly to get on Seya's nerves due to her frigid treatment of him during their date, he watched in confusion and surprise as zooming through the finish line at a horse-like pace was a human boy, feet strapped to metallic springs and bars. Quickly behind him was a beautiful and tall elf woman, and the crowd had been cheering both of them, chanting their names. Donovan had been aware of Weyonna, the beautiful elf woman who had made a great showing five years ago in the races and was popular amongst the men, and he found her pretty, if only too old and prideful for him when he attempted to speak to her. But the boy around his age if only a bit younger, Faris? He narrowed his eyes, Faris had by then skidded to a stop, almost stumbling and falling, his legs under the contraption would have looked purple and discolored, his face was covered in sweat, and he looked exhausted, but his eyes were bright, shining fiercely as he looked around. Weyonna walked over to him, extending her hand, to which he shook, which caused the crowds to cheer even more.

While the great games advertised togetherness, humans often did the worst in various challenges, and also won the least number of competitions. Due to the physical abilities of kulls and elves, humans and dwarves were allowed handicaps of some sort during the race to try and even the odds, but no contraption had seemed to work, and horses and any other mount were considered as fraudulent aid for the race. The majority of citizens who had taken the time to watch Faris reach the starting area had at first laughed at his clumsy movements, but now, all laughter was replaced by stunned silence or excited cheering. As opposed to the supernatural element of Seya's victory, which was between mage and non-mage students. Faris was a human winning against a non-human with what seemed to be a tool invented by humans, this resonated with many crowd members who remembered the oppressive power of the elves years back, easing their hearts and causing them to cheer out excitedly. Tartarus looked around, while his senses were not as keen as they once were as a shade, the influence of Faris's body was apparent, the body could hear, see, smell, touch, and taste better than the average human, so he could catch snippets of conversation.

"Wow! A kid, from our country, beating an elf? That's amazing, he broke those records, what are those shoes, they look so odd and strange, yet he could leap like a stag!"

"That's amazing, the other races can't look down on humans as much as they used to, especially if a kid beat their best, hahaha!"

"I wonder how that contraption was made, what if I had that… I'd be able to go to work in seconds, wouldn't I? And it'd make me taller, Irene might finally let me approach her…"

Despite himself, Tartarus began feeling good, his legs hurt badly, and he'd probably need a healer, and he was feeling light-headed, but he was the winner, there was a refreshing feeling overtaking him. He scanned the crowd, eyes raising slightly when he noticed Seya, peering over one of the railings and cheering, he allowed a smirk to come to his face. I'll surpass your physical strength when my magic returns, and you all will simply be memories of fleeting sentimentality. His eyes drifted from her, turning to see a young man, he could have been anywhere from 13-18, he had an extremely handsome, youthful face but he was tall and muscular, though the most striking feature was his dark skin. A full Surdan... The way the Surdan looked at Tartarus made him smirk, the bastard doesn't like me… On a whim, he raised his fist towards the Surdan and stuck out his middle finger, flipping him off. The Surdan's eyes widened and his look of annoyance changed into seething anger, he said some words quickly, turning to Seya, who looked like she was laughing at him, then turned to walk away in a huff. Tartarus's smirk dropped as he watched the boy leave. "Did he recognize the gesture?"

He had little time to think as he was assailed by several people, who began to bombard him with questions while jotting down notes quickly on paper. He raised his eyebrow.

Oh, yes… newspaper. He vaguely remembered a news printing group that aided Rembrant in his embezzlement and corruption, apparently, there were different groups owned by different entities that operated via a mix of government and private funding. Smiling he turned to the nearest reporter, or, well, looked up at them, despite the spring-loaded stilt-boots providing extra height, when he didn't move, the bouncing naturally slowed and they slightly compressed to handle his weight, once he began moving he would begin to shake until he could get into a good bouncing rhythm, so at the moment he stood as still as possible. His still figure and bright eyes cut a huge contrast to the sweat on his brow and body, giving off the impression of a fierce warrior rather than a child. The reporter gulped before speaking.

"Excuse me… I believe you are Faris Ser?"

"That is correct."

"Ah! Then, the rumors, you had lost your magic after being kidnapped, and now you are a member of the Knight Brigade, which is squarely in the Anti-mage faction, is that true?"

"I did lose my magic, and I am part of the Knight Brigade and an Apprentice Knight, but as for being in the Anti-mage faction, I don't necessarily think that would make much sense."

"Ahaha, do you mean to say you hate the anti-mage faction?"

"I am neutral, I have had enemies in both the mage and anti-mage faction, if the movements of one man turned me against an entire group, I couldn't face myself as a person."

The reporters jotted down his words furiously, but a few were also enraptured, he spoke with a level of maturity and poise they only saw with the well educated, either via wealth or nobility. "So you are at the moment, neutral?" Tartarus nodded in response to the question.

"Excuse me! Faris?" Another reporter chimed in, "Who are your parents? Are you nobility by any chance, the group you were in last year before your loss of magic, many of their members were nobles correct? Were you betrothed to any of them? Did you lose your engagement because of your loss of magic?"

Tartarus snorted, covering his mouth, the springs barely quivered under the shifting weight. "I apologize, I'm tired, and I've had a long run."

"Ah! Wait!" Another reporter chimed in. "These boots! What are they! Who made them?!"

"I call them spring-loaded jumping-stilts, but that's too complicated, so simply call them jumpers, and I made them, forged the metals, folded the steel, arranged all the bits, even tanned the leather for the boots."

"What?!" The reporters were in an uproar, the clamor rising as they shouted over each other to ask Faris more questions, but Tartarus, simply smiling, shifting up and down until he began to bounce again. He rose in the air and landed, his SJ bending, the combinations of multiple springs, bars, and cords straining and collecting all that energy before snapping into place, extending out and helping him leap upwards and out of the reporter's circle, after a few bounces, he loosened the straps, lowering the tension until finally, the boots stopped bouncing, they retracted under his weight, and he strapped the bars back around his boots. He walked to the victor's circle, grabbed the waiting medal, then simply walked out of the racing venue… towards the nearest Protectors of Life mage.

"Hey…" He pointed at them, then at his legs, removing the boots revealed a horrific level of discoloration, causing the mage used to healing severe injuries to raise an eyebrow in surprise. "These are broken…"


	23. Chapter 23

"You were quite splendid." Weyonna approached Faris, nodding politely, "It was my complete loss."

"Oh! No! Not at all!" Tartarus smiled graciously as he bowed slightly to the tall elf, "you had gone easy on me."

"Well, only at the beginning, near the end, I truly began to run at fast speeds."

"Thank you for flattering me, however, even so, you could have run at top speed from the beginning, even if I moved as quickly as I could, it would have been my loss." Tartarus smiled brightly, "But even then, thank you so much for agreeing! I was able to realize many shortcomings within the jumpers, and I'll be able to fix them, thank you!"

Weyonna smiled wryly, "You are welcome. Erm… what was your name?"

"Oh, my name is Faris."

Weyonna's eyes lit up, "Ah, you are one of Alanna and Dusan's friends! They talk about you and the other human children incessantly back home, it made us all quite overjoyed to find them in such good moods."

Tartarus found himself smiling genuinely, _damn, that's not Faris, he's been suppressed but…_ capitalizing on his good mood, he laughed. "I was probably more fortunate in meeting them than vice versa, I certainly hope they are doing well, give them my well wishes." The conversation with Weyonna continued under this thread, mostly innocuous, friendly banter that had no real substance, but as their conversation continued, Tartarus could feel Weyonna's evaluation of him increase.

"...Faris?!"

Tartarus turned to the voice, smile widening as he recognized Cynthia, one of Faris's fellow Knight Apprentice squad members. "Oh, Cynthia, hello, did you have something you needed from me? I apologize Weyonna, she is a member of my student squad, our captain in fact, so I must cut our conversation short." He touched two fingers to his lips, then began to speak in the Ancient language.

"_Atra esterní ono thelduin."_

Weyonna, delighted, continued, _"Atra mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr."_

Tartarus finished, _"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr."_

"Your pronunciation was quite superb, who was your teacher?" Weyonna asked.

"Oh, I had many, and I could practice off Alanna and Dusan." Tartarus bowed, "If you will excuse me," he turned to walk towards Cynthia, his gentle smile changing into a smug smirk.

Cynthia could only simply stare at him, her face awash with multiple emotions.

"You seem a little upset Cynthia, is something wrong?"

"It's… nothing you did, there was a runner yesterday. As it is, I feel, I should probably apologize."

"Probably?" Tartarus replied dryly.

Cynthia glowered for a bit, then lowered her head, "Yes, apologize, I had no idea you had been assisting Vulcan with making peace with the Urgals and Dwarves under his supervision, if not for your work, they would have come to blows and the investigation would not have had the time to occur."

"There's little need to apologize, I should probably be more… transparent." Tartarus replied, "As it is, it's probably better if we can share information, there are two more challenges I plan to participate in today, and a few people I'd like to find and speak to."

Cynthia nodded, her smile dropping as she began to speak in a more business-like tone. "Alright, I and a few of my members are also participating in some events today, and, I should let you know, your mage friends are participating in the games, while I know there are some competitions that require the use of magic, so they will be focusing on that, all of them proved to be very physically fit, you have a chance of running into them during any of the combat or fitness like tests that take place over the weeks, just as a heads up."

Tartarus nodded, smiling, "Eh… It's just going to be a short reunion..."

…

Due to the attack on the city, many buildings and locations were destroyed and damaged, one of the most damaged locations was the slums by Gurant's home. General reconstruction brought laborers, general labor created a market for new home cleaners, and people to sell food and water, allowing a small market to begin forming in the area.

Minnie stood atop a building, to her left and behind her sat dozens of lessers, the unintelligent, non-transforming, instinct-based beings known to humans as cats. Most werecats had a distaste for being around the lessers. While to any werecat, a lesser was more agreeable company than most humans, werecats were, ultimately like dragons, an extremely prideful race. It was why Grimmr Half-Paw made this competition in the first place. Minnie was a bit different from the standard Werecat, she had been abandoned as a sickly child by her parents and was taken in by a troop of wild cats, she was found later by a werecat by the name of Maud, who took her in and raised her, but any werecats who knew here story looked down on her. To Minnie, winning this competition was the most important thing. When the human kit… when Faris, had come to her last, only to reveal he had been compromised mentally, his assertion that their deal still held up was enough for Minnie, but even then, she could not help but be worried. Werecats, even while being sapient like the more cushioned races, were beings of emotion and instinct, she could see in Faris's eyes, that the being in control currently would not have rescued her from the cage she had been trapped in. However, as worried as Minnie was, those feelings held no candle to the distraught feelings of Ventus.

Ventus had known Faris since he had fallen from his nest prematurely. Faris had paid no real mind to him during his training, picking up Ventus and putting him back into the nest. Ventus himself paid no mind to Faris other than to consider him to be a predator. Once Ventus could begin flying, he hunted rats and other game, he was subconsciously aware of Faris being in the area every once in a while, but the boy had spoken words in the ancient language, and while Ventus wasn't aware of those words, he understood their meaning. Ventus owed his life to Ventus, who was both like a father and elder hatch mate to him, he remembered Tartarus, back when he was first created, and hated the entity that so twisted his master. Faris was sad and depressed for a while, and Ventus had no way to comfort him, magic may have awakened him, but he wasn't human, all he knew was that Faris was distressed, but that he'd be there to help. He fought to protect Faris when those assassins attacked him, he would have dived into the sewers had Faris not told him to stay back, but how could he fight against something within Faris without hurting him? Even now, his last order from… Tartarus, was to aide Minnie in her patrols, and while Ventus would have thought to disobey, he simply couldn't bring himself to abandon Faris to return to the forest indefinitely, he was too intelligent for that life now and too ingrained in the boy's life to want to leave.

_There_. Minnie sounded out silently, sending her message to Ventus and the normal cats. They followed her trace, looking down to see a troop of cats patrolling a connection of Alleyways, they were led by a massive cat, the size of a bobcat but covered in fur like a Persian. _Remember, do not hurt the lessers, I only want to aim for the werecat and make him submit._

Ventus moved first, this was not their first time. As he dived down, he let out the ghostly shriek typical of barn owls, causing the cats and werecat to flinch. Cats hissed in unison, and many of them attempted to leap at Ventus when he got just within their range. Despite their efforts, none could even scratch his tail feathers.

_You're making fun of me…_ The large werecat's mind rumbled, his long fur bristled, and he compressed his powerful legs, preparing to rush up the wall to leap at Ventus.

Ventus clung to exposed rocks, just close enough to be reached, and batted away any cats that got too close. The werecat began bounding up the parts of the wall that could hold its weight, then leap up, only to be forced down by a pouncing Minnie.

The two collided on the ground heavily then rolled apart. The werecat, now wet with dirty water and soot, looked around until it saw the hissing cat in front of it. He began to morph into his humanoid form, a 4 ft tall muscular person, he had a surprisingly childlike face, but his hair was long and large, spilling over his sides and back, covering his bare chest and reaching down to his hips and buttocks. He grinned. "Oh… Minnie, we were so worried when we saw you in that cage, but you know the rules, we can't help each other."

Minnie hissed in response, mentally screaming out, _Lies! You and the others set me up six-claw, I was going to win, and you took my troops away from me!_

"Troops?" The Werecat, twelve-claw, smirked, "Lessers aren't soldiers, this isn't a war, it's just a silly little game to determine our next king, but Minnie, you aren't even a real player, you're a stupid little kitten who was abandoned to a den of lessers."

_Shut up!_

Minnie tensed, charging the six-claw. The male werecat was as agile in his humanoid form as he was in his cat form, bending backward to avoid her pounce. He swung his fist at Minnie and she shrunk back. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough to fully avoid the attack, and 6 thin gashes were left on her flank.

True to his name, Six-claw's left arm had 6 digits, which were halfway morphed between humanoid and cat-like form. "Naughty child, didn't your elders teach you to respect your betters? You can't even transform into a humanoid form, if not for your size and words, we'd think you were just a fat lesser."

Minnie hissed angrily, charging forward. Six-claw began to laugh, arms morphing, and he rushed forward.

They tangled with each other, in his humanoid form, Six-claw was faster, while Minnie had access to her teeth as well as two front claws. After a few seconds of entanglement, the victor was beginning to seem clear.

"You're weak you know…" Six-claw laughed. "It was so easy tricking you… it was so surprising too, that any humans would be after werecats, we contemplated killing them for even daring to think to take one of our own, but Etri came up with this plan." He wiped the blood from the scratch Minnie left on his face and licked some of the blood off of the tip of his claws. "How did you escape? Did you wag your tail and play stupid, like a dog? Perhaps they thought you were simply a dumb cat and let you go, or... did you beg?"

The cats around them hissed as they watched each other, but at the moment, they could not move, the fighting between the Werecats would determine who would rule them in their territories.

Ventus charged down, smashing into Six-claw and smashing his face into a wall. Flying off before the werecat could retaliate, Ventus fluttered up into the air.

"What… sort of magic?!" Six-claw turned to face the owl. He attempted to swipe at Ventus, who ducked and dived under him, causing him to miss Minnie charging him again.

_You all betrayed me!_

She hissed and yowled, biting and scratching, cutting and tearing. Every time his fist struck her, she'd bite down harder or pull on his legs, tripping him. Even when he began to morph back into his feline form, she scratched and cut at him, striking from above. His thick main of fur however made it impossible to get any definitive attacks on him.

_Foolish vixen, you can't cut me, and now your feathered friend can't interfere._ Six-claw reared up, throwing Minnie off, before turning to attack her, Ventus wanted to jump in but at this point the dozens of cats who had simply stood and watched turned to Ventus, leaping at him.

Ventus screeched at the cats, flying up to avoid their scratches, but he couldn't dive down. To aid Minnie any longer, not without hurting some of the cats. Minnie's cats jumped down to confront Six-claw's, but they were outnumbered and were slowly moving back as the cats advanced.

"Hey! What are you doing! SHOO! GET! OUT OF THERE!" The animals turned, seeing two human women, armed with brooms and dustpans. Ventus recognized them as Yura and Martha. Six-claw turned to Minnie.

_You're a very lucky whelp, spilling your blood in front of humans would be beneath me, so… you live, for now. You have until tonight to leave the city, or else I'll tear you apart, witnesses or not._ He pressed his paw down, sinking his claws into her flesh once before bounding off. The majority of cats rushed off behind him, including even a few of Minnie's cats.

The rest scattered in multiple directions. Ventus flew down to Minnie. _Get up!_ But she was in bad shape, scars and bite marks littered her body, and her once beautifully patterned coat that made her look like a snow leopard was full of patches created by the larger werecat's claws and scratches.

As the two women walked closer, Martha turned to Yura. "Why did you suddenly start screaming and breaking up the cats? It's normally I who'd do that, so I was surprised that you'd take the lead."

Yura pointed to Ventus, "That owl, that is Faris's pet, and that large cat, it's been walking around our neighborhood at night."

As they got closer Martha recoiled, "That's too large to be a cat, it's a wild beast! Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Yura shrugged, "half a year ago I would have thrown items at Ventus, fearful that he belonged to a Witch, and while I was worried, I saw Faris sneak out and give the cat milk, it didn't attack him, so it was likely safe, no one else noticed so I thought Faris knew it." She bent down next to the big cat. "I was young, but I remember the war, there were people, they looked like children, but they were muscular, wearing armor, but they had cat-like eyes, some of them even morphed into cats before my very eyes." Her eyes twinkled slightly before she noticed the wounds.

Martha observed them as well, "My goodness! That large one would have killed this one." She reached a hand over to Minnie, moving back when Minnie hissed. "Hey!" She retorted sharply, putting her hands on her hips, "You're in no shape to be hissing at me! We're trying to help you!" She stared at the werecat with a stern pout on her face, eventually, Minnie averted her eyes. "There, now, let's get you to our house, we have plenty of medicine, but… transform, it would be hard lugging a giant cat out of the alleyway."

Minnie gave no reply, simply closing her eyes and breathing softly. Yura paled, "wait, what do you mean 'get you to our house' you aren't thinking?!"

Martha smirked, "You did complain that there had been a few more rodents in the area than you would have liked, right?"

Yura's jaw dropped in disbelief at Martha, then she flinched when the woman rolled up her sleeves, bent down, then picked up the bobcat sized creature, carrying it over her shoulders. Martha took a deep breath, then with a refreshing smile, walked out into the streets…

…

Venka's arms shook, sweat-drenched her skin, causing her robes to sag. In her hand, a dull crystal, and surrounding her were 5 orbs of light, spirits, that danced around her. In front of her stood the remains of a tree.

"You were closer this time… you summoned the spirits but they did not heed your will, fortunately, none are powerful enough to take your mind, as I suspected," Farooq said slowly.

"Damnit…" Venka muttered, her hands dropping to her sides. "I… I can summon the spirits, but every time I give an order, they attack me, why?"

Farooq raised his staff, "There are three things that make a Spirit submit. The most important trait is power, a spirit is more likely to attempt to take a person's mind if they have lower power, that is why more humans become shades than any other race. The next most important trait is health. Spirits are ageless, but they are more likely to take a body they deem weak as if they can somehow smell the death on an individual, making it easier to overtake them. A mind addled by age or pain is much easier to take over.

"What is the third? I have a lot of magic, and I'm young and healthy, how much magic do I have to have to stop them from attacking me?"

"Young Venka, with your magic power, I'm honestly surprised, your vitality is so strong that it matches your magic potential, countering their reasons to attack you." He frowned, "This means that you are severely lacking in the third category."

"Which is…"

"Willpower."

Venka blinked, "What… really? That's… odd."

"You seem more surprised than upset?" Farooq confusedly said.

"Yeah, uh… Faris once called me a stubborn bitch in bed."

Farooq coughed, accidentally breathing in spittle. "W-what?!"

Venka, realizing the implication, reddened, "No! NO! Not like that! I meant, well, when my parents died... when we came to the city, I sometimes slept in his bed… I'd get nightmares. I used to not be able to sleep without my parents, and they would let me sleep with them, so I wouldn't have nightmares, but those nightmares happened again when they died. One night I awoke to go pee." Farooq raised an eyebrow at Venka's bluntness. "And, when I was returning to bed, Faris mumbled something like…. _'It's just a fucking pie Venka, you stupid stubborn bitch, Jesus!'_. I had no idea what he was talking about, I think he was dreaming though, I punched him awake but was too angry to tell him exactly what it was about."

Farooq sighed, "Perhaps it's not so much your will, or lack thereof, as it is your lack of focus. I noticed, when you and your allies duel, it's said of your opponents that you often don't face them head-on in a mental battle first, you utilize your superior magic, and when you attack them, you brute force your way past their defenses in an unreal way, is that correct?"

"Yeah, it is." Venka smiled proudly.

"Oh, then that is why you lost to the spirits," Farooq said.

"Wait… why?!" Venka stood up, tiredness dissipating.

Farooq, smiling, spoke again, "Your magic, you have an amazing physical recovery speed, it is likely due to your magic amount. But you rely on it to aid your magic, physical, and mental abilities, correct?"

"Well, yeah, I used to not be able to, but I just have so much energy that boosting myself with magic doesn't tax me at all."

"A spirit's mental pressure is insane, it's such that just slightly boosting your mental ability isn't enough, if your concentration drops even once, they bypass defenses put up by magic. Remember, spirits don't need the ancient language. You rely on your boundless magic to enhance your mental abilities, but you are still human, unlike elves who naturally have powerful minds from birth, humans require training and discipline to focus and gain enlightenment."

"Oh… um, well, what about shades?"

"Shades? They… they are both held and bound by the ancient language, they are a union of mortal flesh and spirit, thus the spirit is much more limited in its freedom of magic, even then, they are endowed with a knowledge of magic application, and can easily utilize the knowledge of whoever their host is to best utilize magic, of course, they are still limited by the magical talent of their host." Farooq looked at Venka, "You are asking because of Faris? I assume." Farooq ruffled Venka's hair. "The boy is an astounding outlier, that he overcame the mental bonds of the shade and returned isn't just commendable, it's legendary, whatever stimulus triggered such a transformation would likely be extremely important. Do you believe in him?" Venka nodded. "Good." Farooq smiled, ruffling her hair some more, then his smile dropped, he retracted his hand and awkwardly coughed. "As it is, you are tired, go get some rest, and see if you can catch up with your friends today."

Venka smiled, patting her head. She bowed, "Thank you, Farooq-elda."

Farooq smiled at the honorific and bid Venka a goodbye. Just as she left the room, he raised his hands, two spirits materialized out of thin air.

"Foton, Pikiran." He turned to the two orbs, _"Ono weohnata waíse Venka skölir fra rauthr"_. The orbs turned deep red. "Naughty… I've given you ample energy, besides, she may cure your boredom." He sighed, Venka reminded him of his granddaughter, "SieHa…" He said softly, returning to his quarters to meditate, concentrating his excess reserves into the crystal he had been building up since he was a child...

…

"That will be 5 pence."

"Alrighty…" Venka reached into her purse and handed five copper-colored coins into the storekeeper's hands. She then grabbed the bright red apple that caught her eye, then tossed it up. _"Kverst" (cut). _The apple spun in the air from her toss, then before everyone's eyes, the skin began to unravel, as if peeled by an expert with a highly honed dagger, The perfectly peeled apple landed in her hand, then split into 6 perfect slices. Venka smiled as she took a bite of one apple slice, enjoying the explosion of juice as she chewed. "Thanks, Baker!" She shouted to the fruit vendor, who was ironically named Baker.

"Have a nice day!" The large man laughed as she walked off.

Venka had spent the days she wasn't training or at school exploring the city, because of her nosy nature and upfront attitude, she made a name for herself as the young mage from the academy. Many people often feared magic, and there were rumors of her insane magical power, but she was often simply nice and simple natured when people met her, getting excited over the smallest of novelties and making fast friends quite easily. Though, the fact she was blossoming into a pretty young woman probably helped. Her eyes flashed as she checked the time, "Oh, it's almost time for the first round of duels!"

...


	24. Chapter 24

_Faris was missing two of his limbs. Specifically, his left arm and right leg. But he was only somewhat upset._

_"I was able to avoid losing my dominant hand this time you piece of garbage." Faris's bright blue eyes twinkled as glared at the boy who looked almost like him._

_The boy was slightly taller and older, and his skin darker, his features were also, slightly different, Faris had features that seemed to blend Middle Eastern, European, and African, this boy mirroring him seemed to have physical traits that made him seem slightly more African, in that way, his physical appearance seemed to be a fusion of Faris, and one other person._

_"It's a shame too, how does it feel to realize that you were the fake." Tartarus's deep laugh filled Faris's mindscape, the energy within the area, personified as dark red swirling clouds, pulsed whenever his voice raised. "To think, all along, I thought 'Faris' was the real entity, but 'Damien' is the real one, Damien had the soul I ended up retreating into." Tartarus's smile widened unnaturally, the body he appeared in differed in a few more ways than just his physical similarities to Damien. Atop his head were two antler-like horns, wide and multibranched, curving and jutting out to resemble both the horns of a demon as well as a crown. "You've certainly become quite tenacious, I'm disappointed that a fake somehow gave a greater level of skill than the real thing."_

_"My goodness, you're a bold liar." Faris smirked, "We had this conversation months ago, where you faced Damien and said the exact same words, he was a collection of soulless memory, I was the real thing, you'd absorb him, absorb me, yadda yadda, do spirits simply lie? Or is it a trait of shades with even the slightest bit of intelligence, I don't remember Durza ever being as mouthy."_

_"Don't compare me to that weakling who was killed by a sword to the chest."_

_"Oh, and a dagger through the back is better?" Some of the red light from the atmosphere entered Faris, as it did, his eyes flashed from blue to a deep red as a wave of energy highlighted his body, settling in his missing limbs and creating limbs made of energy._

_"!"_

_"Surprise, I've picked up a few tricks fighting you." Faris charged forward, in his hand was Uglaw's sword, and despite the size difference, it felt snug in his hand. He swung with inhuman speed, but Tartarus was faster, blocking the blade with his bare hands._

_"Die." Tartarus raised his hand to Faris's face, and a blast of pure force knocked the boy back. Faris rose, all forelimbs missing again and with just his torso left, but even then, he laughed._

_"You think you can win? You have no magic, you aren't even real, you are nothing! You're maybe at best just a bundle of talent and confidence wrapped up in a fake persona, your emotions are simply a reflection of the false reality Damien put up. He was too weak to face any real truths, so you bore the hardships and became the power you are today. He materialized in front of the dying Faris. "And now, I'll take that power from you."_

_"No, you won't." Faris said, smiling even as he was destroyed by Tartarus, "This is simply a reflection of our status, you're getting desperate now, I'm fighting back, and I'm not the only one." He laughed, as his body disappeared, his voice reverberated throughout the echoes of the mindscape. "I'm me Tartarus, and Damien is himself, we're two halves of the same whole, and you're overstaying your welcome…"_

...

"...Urgh… argh…" Pained moans emanated from a young boy with red hair. The other fighters in the third bracket turned to him, confused. The young man, Faris, was somewhat of a mystery, he showed excellent results in the last race, winning it, and also showed great skill in the first round of the student duels, where he defeated a semi-accomplished knight apprentice praised for his understanding of basic swordplay. But this was the human's division, where adults and teens of all shapes and sizes, skilled in all forms of martial skill, competed. They had been surprised when he showed that he signed for two different duel competitions side by side, and expected that he would eventually be easy pickings for whoever was lucky enough to face him. But now, with the pained moans emanating from the boy, a few of them thought to themselves that some lucky fool would be able to simply pass without even wasting an iota of effort.

"Sir Yohan Morsk?" The fighters in the waiting room all turned to a large figure standing in the corner. He stood at a towering 6 foot 3 inches and was a tower of muscle and sinew, an equally large greatsword rested at his side. He was in chain mail and held a large shield strapped to one arm. The fighters watched him nervously, Yohan was a powerful fighter from the north, who achieved knighthood at a young age, he looked down on the Knight's academy in the capital, believing that only nobles should ever be allowed the opportunity for knighthood, and had proven himself in 15 duels against full-fledged members of the knight brigade, defeating 10 of those 15. The fighters all gulped, hoping they would not be his first victim.

"Umm… contestant Faris, please enter, it's your turn as well." The receptionist turned to the boy, concern etched on his face. After a few seconds, the boy raised his head, turning to her.

"Yes, I'm ready." Tartarus smiled, sighing deeply. His head throbbed and he was in a bad mood, but looking at Yohan, who stared at him with menace, made him smile. "Let's get the slaughter going."

…

"Well, don't you look smug?" Venka looked to Seya. "What, did your date go well?"

"No, not at all, that prick was insufferable, rather, I enjoyed how thoroughly annoyed he was with Faris's victory in the race."

"Wait… Faris won?!" Venka said, excited and confused.

"Oh, you should have seen it, he used these weird spring contraptions, they were so marvelous, he has to sell me the blueprints!" Bartholomew gushed, speaking of the amazing specks on the boots and how they probably worked.

Morgan scoffed, "I wish he ran with us then, might have helped against that bastard Donovan."

"You're still mad?" Nya teased.

"He uses electricity, I use electricity, he's completely copying my talent!" He scowled, "Well, he better not meet me in the mage duels, I'll completely wash him away."

"He's not your opponent," Seya said simply.

"Oh, really, you're just making fun of me."

"No, I'm not, he's quite skilled, if you make light of him, it's the difference between loosing in minutes versus loosing in seconds." Seya looked at Morgan seriously, "If you try your best from the beginning, 1-out-of-20 times, you'll be the victor."

"Hey, isn't that an over-exaggeration?" Katya scowled. "Morgan has trained harder than any of us, the only ones more martially gifted are you and Nya, and he's proven to be better at magic than Nya."

"Meaning, he's simply third fiddle in all aspects." Seya said bluntly, "He's not the best fighter, he's not the best magician, he's not the best mental duelist, he's simply good, but Donovan is at the least, an exceptional magician and fighter."

Morgan looked at Seya, thoughtful, "Alright then, so if you are so confident in gauging his strength, how well would you do against him?"

Seya didn't smile, "If we had 100 matches, I'd likely win 51 of them."

Morgan frowned, "He's that tough huh… wait, doesn't that mean I have a one-in-twenty chance of beating you?" He smirked.

"In your dreams, I'm accounting for the fact Donovan doesn't know how you fight, and you don't know how Donovan fights, even if he's stronger, faster, and more magically talented, you've got that brain of yours or fearless Number 2, so you should be able to surprise him." Seya turned to look at the arena, "anyways, shush, Faris is finally up, we all attended the student duels, but none of us entered the full division for humans, we've got to show support for Nya and Faris."

Venka smiled, happy her friends seemed to have gotten over Donovan being a knight. Turning to look at the arena, she watched as her best friend in the whole world stepped out into the arena.

…

"Remember the rules," The receptionist put a badge on both Faris and Yohan, "once the energy in the crystal hits a critical percentage point, denoted by the meter emptying, your movements will be halted and the match will end, the barrier surrounding your body is less than the thickness of a single piece of hair, near misses will not deplete the gauge like a standard barrier may, but that also means that the physical force behind the attack may still be somewhat transferred, it's not enough to kill, but it will hurt, and bones might even be broken, for this reason, the area around the head, jaw, neck, and chest will have an extra layer of protection, in exchange, the energy depleted from an impact into those areas will drain almost twice as much energy. The barriers imitate realism, so if enough damage is done to a single area with enough force, depending on its location, one or more body parts in that location will be slowed down utilizing a second energy source to emulate the effect of real injuries."

Tartarus absorbed the instructions, but Yohan scoffed.

"Hmph, cowards, scared to shed blood."

"Well, given your size, it would be awkward draining you." Tartarus replied, "So these rules will make things less messy."

"How unscrupulous, you're one of those Knigth Brigade bastard children, aren't you."

Yohan and Tartarus walked to the center of the ring, it was a large battlefield, about 40 feet in length, with 4 pillars in the center and some walls here and there to maximize the utilization of both straight strategy and adaptability to a less than ideal environment. Some sections of the arena were completely flat, ideal for two standard sword fighters, others were uneven and even sloped.

In the many massive mirrors littering the stands, Tartarus and Yohan were recorded on the mirrors, with small graphics of their faces in the corners, displaying the energy within their crystals.

"This arena is as unscrupulous as the men and women who call themselves the Knight Brigade." Yohan scoffed, "I was surprised when such a thing, an 'Anti-mage' faction appeared, nobles and commoners putting aside their innumerable differences because of magic?" He laughed, "I'll prove my dominance in this arena, and show that before contemplating the wall of magic, noble blood and talent is an innumerable fortress." Tartarus yawned as he bowed lightly, inflaming Yohan. "I apologize child, but I have no room for mercy!" He charged forward with lightning-quick acceleration despite his great size, swinging downwards.

As fast as Yohan was, Tartarus was faster. A resounding metallic clash rang throughout the arena, and as the dust cleared, Yohan realized that his downswing landed on the boy's back, but his blade did not touch flesh or the wards, but rather a bastard sword. Utilizing a tiny bit of limiter removal, Tartarus had unsheathed the blade, placed it flat over his back, and lowered in tandem with the speed of the downward swing, blocking and deflecting a majority of the force of the sword swing, even then, a good 1/10 of the bar representing Faris's barrier health went down. Taking advantage of Yohan's shock, Tartarus swung his blade, turning the block and deflect into a massive uppercut, slicing from groin to chin. Yohan was pushed back due to the force, and Tartarus's hands throbbed, but he smiled.

The crowd cheered in appreciation, on the board, Yohan's barrier showed that he took between a third and a fourth of damage. He roared in anger, bringing down his sword, but Tartarus had rolled beneath him, slicing at his ankle tendons. The area below his knees darkened, causing the large man to stumble as he tried to turn.

"You bastard! Fight me like a man!"

"I'm twelve you jackass," Tartarus replied, kicking Yohan in the jaw. Yohan's face snapped to the side from the kick, and the damage was recorded for both Tartarus and Yohan, but Yohan's was markedly greater, with Tartarus not even at 8/10 of the barrier. "You've got a tough body, but… you know, it's actually kind of funny." He backed up, watching as Yohan staggered up, "That swing? It would have killed you, you'd have bled out, right here, on these floors you ridiculed so much." He laughed, "You'd have died, bleeding out from your groin first, I'd have had to call you Lady Yohan for the duration of the duel."

Yohan's nostrils flared as he charged Faris, who sprinted towards an uneven section of the arena.

"Tournament be damned! I'll brain you!" Yohan quickly caught up to the boy, stabbing his sword into Tararus's back. The force took out 3/4ths of his barrier's energy. Causing the barrier meter to go dangerously low. Tartarus stumbled forward, tripping and rolling behind a wall.

The crowd cheered with excitement as Yohan charged forward then stopped. Breathing deeply, he calmed himself. _That boy will attack me if I round the wall, he's done enough damage to me that a strong strike to the head would kill me. The boy has some talent. I will approach from a further distance._ He turned to sprint, making a wide berth of the wall. As he did, he heard the crowd cheer loudly.

…

Tartarus breathed deeply, he wore simple leader armor with hardened bits on his shoulders, back, chest, stomach, groin, and inner thighs, if not for that armor, the barrier likely wouldn't have been able to withstand the stab. _That human has quite a decent level of power and skill, he could make Nya smile wryly._ He shook his head from the thoughts. If the man was as smart as he was skilled, he wouldn't take the bait and would attempt to clear a wide berth. That's where Tartarus's skills would shine. He backed up a bit, then smirked.

Of the dozens of men and women slain by Faris and Tartarus, more than a few had experience being burglars, brigands, knife jugglers, and circus performers, their experience coupled with Faris's perfect memory allowed Tartarus to access balancing and fighting skills he didn't believe Faris had access to before, of course, it was still only possible due to Faris constantly training and maintaining his flexibility. Tartarus scrabbled up the 6ft wall, sword still in hand, and, in one fell swoop, sprinted off, activating the limiter removal for an instant to leap high over the wall and down to Yohan.

The crowd's cheering alerted Yohan, and the man swung his sword to block Tartarus. Tartarus surprised him with three rapid knife throws, two at his face, one at his chest slightly after. Yohan blocked all three, but couldn't bring his blade up high enough to fully block Tartarus's downswing.

Yohan groaned in pain, even with the barrier the force behind the swing was tremendous, but he still had health left. He smirked, reaching his hand to grab the boy by the neck, but Tartarus kicked out, catching Yohan in the neck with a hidden dagger.

"Hurk?!" Yohan flinched, backing up and falling over, but because his 'health' meter dropped to 0, the magic in the second crystal froze his movements, forcing him to remain in the mid-fall position, this caused several of the audience members to laugh.

**"The winner! Faris! Amazing, even with his magic gone! He never ceases to surprise us!"** The announcer called. The crowd cheered for the fantastic challenge, eventually, the magic ended, causing Yohan to fall. As he got up, attendants walked in, taking the crystals.

**"Participants please bow."**

Tartarus turned to Yohan, "You performed admirably, it was a fun test of how far I've come and what my limits are." He gave a sardonic smile and bowed, quietly adding so that only Yohan could hear, "Your efforts were as astounding as your beliefs, in other words, flashy, dangerous, and stupidly short-sighted." As he raised his head he met the massive blade almost at his face and the crowd screaming out, but before the blade could touch him, his eyes gleamed red, with almost superhuman precision, he shifted his body, avoiding the blade by a hair's breadth, before Yohan could react, his blade was already through the giant man's stomach. As Yohan crumpled, Tartarus's face twisted in displeasure as he whispered, "The only reason you're still alive is… well, let's just pretend I respect life." He pulled out his sword just as the healers and knights arrived, flicking the blood off and cleaning the rest before sheathing and dropping the weapon. The healers attended Yohan as the knights placed them both in cuffs then escorted him and Tartarus away.

The crowd murmured uneasily, but Venka looked the most distraught, for a second, it looked like Faris's eyes flickered red again.

…

_Tartarus was annoyed, Faris's mental attacks were nothing to him at first, but eventually, he began to attack more methodically, it had not even been a full day, yet now, every few seconds, a pain would fill his skull and Faris would begin attacking him mentally, breaking past his first wall of defense would force Tartarus to devote time and effort into facing Faris in the inner mindscape, where he hoped visual representation of his superiority would kill Faris's resistance. But the boy proved that he was quickly overcoming both Tartarus's strength and his lies._

_"Where is that tenacious attitude coming from?" Tartarus had finally been forced to put in the effort to suppress Faris, and his fight with Yohan broke his concentration enough for Faris to force his way out to struggle, the reason he hadn't gone for a killing blow was Faris's interference. "And why do you avoid killing? He's a waste of space, you hate his type the most, don't you?"_

_"He wasn't my real enemy, and instigating him caused that fight, if he comes for my life, I'll determine how best to deal with him, but murdering him in front of thousands of people?" Faris shook his head. He was only missing his right hand this time, replaced with a glowing implement as he held his sword, in the other hand, a primitive flintlock gun, it only had a one time use, but he could make it count. He charged forward, boosted by a surge of energy. Tartarus swung his fist to retaliate, and Faris used a burst of energy to leap into the air, avoiding the attack, he pointed his bullet, firing at Tartarus, who shook in surprise as the attack made him bleed._

_"Hahaha!" Tartarus coughed up black bile as he laughed, "You don't mind that he could die, but that you did it in front of an audience? How shallow."_

_"Murder is murder, no matter what you call it, if you stain your hands, you expect your hands to be stained back, that doesn't mean I should glorify murder, or expose it to those who would otherwise be safe and innocent from it all." He charged forward, blade imbued with the red energy as he sliced at Tartarus._

_Blood dripped on the floor, for the first time, it was Tartarus's blood. He narrowed his eyes as thousands of blasts of energy impacted Faris's body, destroying it. _**_"You are nothing, you will submit to me!"_**_ He screamed into the darkness, but Faris gave no answer, which angered him more._

_…_

Tartarus turned to the knight who guarded him, he was in a simple room with a table and chair, a single knight stood at the door. Eventually, he attempted small talk.

"Fine afternoon."

"..."

"...Nice armor, who's the smith?"

"..."

"Steel-studded son of a bitch…" Tartarus muttered, smiling as he slouched. The knight remained silent.

Eventually, the door opened, revealing three men in Knight's regalia.

The first was quite fat, fatter even than Bartholomew's uncle Mortimer, he was dressed in full-plate that barely suit him. Gaudy designs decorated the armor and a bright red cape hung from his back, on the man's chest plate was the Insignia of the highest ranks for the Knight Brigade, generals. The fat one seemed to be a Brigadier General. The one on the right was tall and beautiful, almost like an elf, with gentle features and long hair, she walked in a way that showed off her hips even while wearing armor, which caused Tartarus to chuckle. Her insignia showed that she was a Major General. The man in the middle was of average height, his face seemed normal, he was neither ugly nor handsome, but his face also contained a pleasant symmetry to it, lacking in blemishes or even facial hair, his armor was the least decorative, but had the insignia denoting him as the main General.

"...Where's the Lieutenant General?" Tartarus asked cheekily.

The fat man spoke, "Your highest superior officers appear, and you retort?"

"He's more unique than was reported, isn't he Lawrence?" The woman said, turning to the man in the middle.

The man observed Faris, then turned to the large man, "Calm yourself Callisto, it is unbecoming to take offense from a mere child's jabs, but… you aren't just a mere child. Tartarus, is it?"

Tartarus frowned, "My name is Faris." He wondered what they were playing at.

"You can call yourself whatever you want, but that doesn't change what you are… shade."

"If you thought I was a shade, why aren't I in shackles, and dead?" Tartarus asked, his face twisted to one of rage, which matched his mood due to Faris. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I don't want any part of it."

"You only say that because you don't know…" The woman smirked, winking at him, Tartarus was unaffected by her beauty.

"Out with it then."

"Oh, I like him, we should keep an eye on this one." Callisto laughed as the woman scowled, "Calm down Petra, he's simply seen too many beauties in his life to turn his head to an old woman."

Petra, who looked to be in her mid-twenties at best, stared daggers at Callisto, who simply chuckled, jowls jiggling with his laughter.

"We know why you're attending so many events," Lawrence said.

"Oh?" Tartarus crossed his arms. "Illuminate me."

"You wish to regain your magic, either by the dragon egg or through the rewards for the Knight Apprentices who do the best, the elixir that grants a nonmagic use the ability to use magic at the level of at least a gold-ranked disciple."

"I know about the dragon egg, but as for the elixir…"

"Don't lie," Callisto said, wagging his finger, we know all about your dealings with Jaya.

"I despise Jaya."

"But that doesn't mean you disregard his words, advice, or knowledge does it?" Lawrence said.

Tartarus sighed, his head throbbing as Faris attempted to take back his mind again. "Assuming… you were correct, what now, you'll kill me?"

"No, rather, we plan on helping you win, on a condition, you just want your magic back don't you? You don't care how, and given your actions, a dragon would hamper your freedom, rather than help it. If you help us, we'll help you."

Tartarus smirked, "What, you'll rig the matches so that I take care of all the competition likely to hatch the dragon, and you place a possible puppet in front of the egg? Dragons are picky, why would it hatch for your random pawn?"

"There isn't only one pawn, and we do have our ways. Here is my deal, the two elixirs? They aren't anywhere near as powerful as the potential completed product, I'll provide you with the dosage if you take care of any possible threats to my goal, knight apprentice or mage."

"I'm only in a few challenges."

"I pulled some strings." Petra said smugly, "After a few words from me, well, the administrators had no choice but to make some last-minute changes, luckily, you can definitely make it, you certainly have the talent."

"...I need at least a little proof that you're telling the truth." Tartarus widened his eyes as they began to speak in the ancient language.

"We are the anti-mage faction because we have a healthy understanding of the dangers of magic, that does not mean we don't believe in magic or its importance."

Tartarus thought for a few seconds, "I'm not a shade, but… I guess I'll help you guys out."

They shook hands, and Petra even hugged him.

"Good choice kid," Callisto said. "You'll go far."

Tartarus was escorted out of the room, once out of sight, he moved to a private location, his head hurt more than it had before, but he smiled even as the blood-like tears brimmed in his eyes. "Those liars…" They would simply use and discard him, but he had a few aces up his sleeve.

"Time to secure my debts…"

...


	25. Chapter 25

Tartarus breathed in the cool evening air, it had been getting colder and colder by the day, winter was approaching. As he made his way out of the building, he took note of the street signs, then of the guards that lined the side of the building. As opposed to the majority of patrolling guards, who wore simple, but well-tanned and crafted, dark leather armor, these guards were outfitted with heavy steel plating and intimidating helmets. In the center of these helmets were small white crystals that gleamed in the sunlight. Tartarus's stair attracted one of the guard's attention, and the guard turned to the young boy with red hair and pale violet eyes.

"...Do you need something?"

Tartarus was silent, causing the guard to shift uncomfortably, the boy's eyes seeming to pierce between the slits of the helmet and into the man's soul, causing him to finally turn away in discomfort. "Pft."

The other guards began to chuckle at the expense of their uncomfortable ally, and Tartarus left with a thin smirk on his face. He turned back towards the stadium, specifically towards the fighter pavilion. As he disappeared behind a street corner, a girl with fiery red hair began to walk after him, though at a distance.

Venka had seen Faris enter the building, but his facial expressions, the gait of his walk, his mannerisms, and the way he looked when he turned from the guards, it was odd, it felt like Faris, but also not like him. She didn't want to make assumptions, the look in his eyes the first time she flinched at his gaze hurt her deeply, but she didn't want to also leave things unturned. "At the most…" She whispered to herself, "He's probably different because of everything that's happened, people can change in a week, right?" She said to herself. She continued to tail Faris, who casually made his way back to the tournament area. As he did, she felt her ear buzzing, it was the effects of a spell she and her friends developed, a communication spell designed to allow them to know if each other were close enough to communicate with mentally.

Venka? - It was Morgan.

Yeah, I'm here.

Where'd you disappear off to, Katya and the rest are here with me; we're about to watch Nya's match.

Who's she fighting? Venka asked, curious. She sensed a great deal of humor from Morgan as he answered.

She's fighting Johnathan.

You mean from Cy- wait, sorry I can't keep talking, I'm trying to keep up with Faris.

He's back? Wasn't he taken by a bunch of knights, I thought they were going to do something to him again.

You don't sound very worried. Venka barely saw Faris's short red mane, a darker, deeper red than her own, as he bobbed through the crowd. She did her best to catch up.

Well, I-

Sorry, Venka cut off Morgan apologetically, I'll make it up to you guys later, I'm just worried about Faris, he seems different. Venka closed off her mind and ignored the buzzing sensation, eventually, it wore off. She followed after Faris, surprised as he moved past the humans then into the Urgal area, at first she thought he had come here to speak to the Urgal he was friends with, but he moved past that location. Venka began to hesitantly move between the Urgals, trying to make her way through without incurring the wrath of any Urgals. Eventually, she tripped over one's foot, but before she hit the floor, she felt a massive arm grab her by the stomach and keep her from tripping over. She turned to look, eyes widening as she eyed Gork.

"You look like you need some assistance." He said.

"Thank you Gork." She smiled, turning to see Faris disappearing behind a mass of bodies. Many Urgals and Kull were standing and cheering as the fights below intensified. "Can you help me? I saw Faris and I'm trying to see where he's going, I thought he was coming to talk to you but he went past you."

Gork's face knotted in thought, "that is odd, past us are elves then dwarves, I will help you." Gork turned and began shoving his way through the Kull and Urgals, Venka paled, thinking a fight would break out, but the Urgals and Kull moved easily, making space for them to make their way through. After squeezing and shoving their way through the sea of bodies, they spotted Faris.

Past the Urgals sitting stands was a small number of elves who stayed to witness the youth and adult divisions of the fighting tournament between humans. The human guards serving as VIP escorts for the elves moved to stop Faris, but one of the elves, a tall, pretty woman, said a few words and the guards let Faris past. Venka's face began to heat up with irritation. "Atra edtha hórna," (Let me hear)

Faris began by commencing the elven introduction, with the elf woman returning his grace. The elves surrounding turned to look at the boy, clearly impressed.

"...Impressive movements." The elf woman said, eyes glistening. "You truly are a savant, young Faris."

"Thank you Ms. Weyonna," Faris replied, "I apologize for barging in like this. You and your compatriots are busy I am certain, but… our deal?"

The elf's ears tinged a slight red, causing Venka's temper to rise, she turned to glare at Faris, who's back was turned to her.

"You made a wager?" Another elf spoke up, he looked at Faris then Weyonna, then smirked wryly. "My goodness Weyonna, I had no idea you took up games of chance, what did you promise this child? A magic fleece, shoes that grant flight, a seed of a giant oak?" He poked a tongue out at the elf woman, who blushed.

"Don't tease me Yolinder." She muttered, looking away embarrassed. She reached into her back and took out a gemstone, a glittering crystal clear stone attached to a ring. "Here you are, the crystal is white sapphire, a very rare gemstone."

Faris's face brightened up as he took the ring, as he turned to put it away his eyes glanced up, Venka hid behind Gork. She didn't dare peek out to look, her holding her breath for a few seconds.

"Thank you so much Weyonna-kona." Faris bowed deeply. Weyonna replied by ruffling the hair on his head.

"You are very welcome Faris-finiarel," Weyonna replied.

They stopped talking, but Venka remained quiet.

"Hey Venka, hello Gork."

Venka flinched at Faris's voice, she tentatively peaked past Gork's elbow, smiling nervously. Faris raised an eyebrow.

"Hello, Ushnek," Gork responded, pushing his fist forward. Faris responded with a fist bump and when pulling back made an explosion sound with his mouth.

"So… what brings you two here, or well, what brings Venka here." Faris looked at Venka, who remained silent, "Everything okay up there miss snoop?"

"Ms. Snoop?!" Venka retorted hotly, "What about you Mr… um, sneak! Yeah, Mr. Sneak! Where have you been this entire time?"

"Mr. Snea~k, wow… really creative nickname V, where'd you come up with that one?" Faris chuckled lightly.

"Yeah yeah," Venka smiled, relieved that Faris seemed normal. In that silence, Faris turned to Gork.

"Gork, how are you, how is Hamma?"

Gork touched the tip of his horn, "my mother is doing very well, she complains that I haven't gone to achieve any hunts worthy of attracting a mate."

Faris smirked, poking Gork's muscle, "well, you'll be able to test your efficiency out in the arena, did you join the footrace?"

Gork shook his head, "I am tough Ushnek, but not fast." He smiled.

"I am interested to see how far you've come, hopefully, we'll see your progress soon."

Gork laughed at the provocation, though it was a hearty, happy laugh. "Look forward to it Ushnek." He pulled Faris in for a bear hug, letting him go and turning to find a seat for himself amongst the throngs of Urgals, who had, for the most part, ignored their conversation. Venka smiled at the sight, Gork was a good friend of Faris's and she could tell how warm and kind he was even through his hardy, powerful exterior. She turned to Faris however, she needed to get to the bottom of his actions.

"Faris… are you okay?"

"What do you mean?" Faris replied, eyes looking deep into Venka's.

Wh-what's with his looks… Venka thought, trying to keep her flustered emotions out of her voice, "uh… I, I mean, I saw you get taken by the knights, but they didn't take you to the detention center."

"Well, only people who did something wrong go to the detention center, that swordsman attacked me illegally."

Venka shook her head, "c'mon Faris, you know me, self-defense still warrants detention." Venka had gotten in trouble more than once for defending herself too egregiously outside of sanctioned combat between students, and she had seen many people arrested by guards even after defending themselves if it led to the serious injury of the attacker. "They took you to a different building, are you alright? Did anything happen to you?"

"Oh, that? I'm fine, they wanted to get some questions out of me, and get me to sponsor the Knight Brigade."

"You, you're part of the knight brigade though?"

"Well," Faris paused, he ruffled Venka's hair, "Yes, I am, but that doesn't mean I care about them, I mean, this beautiful young lady I know is a mage, it would hurt me to say or do anything to hurt her. Venka blushed at his words. Faris continued walking on for a bit.

"Venka." She turned to see Faris, he flashed a smile that made her heart stop for a few seconds. "Let's go sit with our friends." Faris tapped Venka's cheek, causing her to redden, he chuckled, walking past her and humming a tune. Venka followed quickly after.

…

"There you guys are!" Morgan looked at Faris and Venka, scooting so that they could sit, his eyes veered from Faris's cool expression to Venka's embarrassed red face, and smiled wryly. "Oh! My brother, you've finally taken in my skills, I am proud to call you my friend Faris."

"What skills?!" Venka snapped.

This elicited an ominous chuckle from Morgan as he smiled mysteriously, "That's a discussion to be had only between men, my dear."

Katya rolled her eyes, "Ignore the fool and sit down."

As the two sat, Bartholomew turned to Faris. "Hey, Faris, how'd you come up with the design for those boots?"

Everyone turned to Faris, who lightly chuckled, "I saw deer running? Why, are you interested in the blueprints?"

Bartholomew's eyes lit up, "Actually, I'm really really interested in trying to combine the technology you come up with, and magic principles. The refrigerant system you developed for the ice and fire golems? We were able to utilize it for food storage, while the circuitry was difficult to fully grasp, we think it will be especially popular in hotter climates, like the Hadrac Desert and Surda especially."

"Oh, then you better pay up," Faris said sarcastically.

Bartholomew looked serious, smiling as he spoke, "Oh, yeah, of course, you hold 41% of the shares Faris."

The others looked to Faris, then back at Bartholomew, Faris raised an eyebrow as he asked. "Haah?!"

"Yes, it is held in your name, there wasn't much time to talk to you, but I insisted you be given shares, of course, I have 35% holdings, and my uncle holds 20%, with 4% divided across merchant investors."

Faris burst out laughing, "Oh, oh! This is fortuitous, thank you for your consideration." He sighed, the smile still on his face, "this is actually quite hilarious, but in a good way."

Venka raised a hand, "so… how much is 41%?"

Bartholomew smiled, "Basically, Faris now has the wealth required to rival the 1st son of a minor noble."

Venka whistled in appreciation, but she quickly lost her attention as Faris and Bartholomew began to talk shop.

"Hey… guys." Bartholomew flinched, he and Faris turned to see Katya, whose face was serene, belying the venom that dripped from her voice. "Shut up, Nya is ABOUT TO FIGHT." Her voice raised with enough ferocity that even Seya, who had dozed off, flinched.

"Who's Nya fighting?" Faris asked, looking down.

"Oh? Venka didn't tell you?" Morgan asked wryly, "Was she busy with something else?" Venka blushed at his remark.

"Yeah ms. snoop, why didn't you tell me?" Faris asked playfully, Venka's face cooled and she released a long drawn out sigh. Faris's smile dropped as he raised an eyebrow.

It was Katya who answered, "She's fighting her cousin, Jonathan, he's from your knight apprentice squad, Faris."

"Ah, okay." Faris, or rather, Tartarus nodded, looking down on the arena with renewed interest, watching as the two fighters entered the stage.

…

Jonathan's muscles were tensed, Nya was relaxed. Jonathan had a fierce, excited smile on his face, Nya looked bored. Jonathan was equipped with a shield, a whip, and a staff, Nya had several throwing daggers, spiked knuckles, and a bow and arrows. The only items they shared were their armor, leather with iron chest and shoulder plates, and a 1 handed long sword.

The referee handed them a gemstone that they wore as necklaces and reiterated the rules.

"... and again, like as stated before, you will feel the force of the blows, it can push you back, magic is prohibited the casting of a spell will be immediately detected." Both fighters nodded. The referee backed off from the arena, then shouted, "GO!"

Nya seemed to fly across the ground, blade swinging is a straight forward slash to John's neck. He parried, allowing the blade to slide off his sword easily. John and Nya eyed each other for that split second that their blades clashed. As she landed, a smile appeared on Nya's face while John began to frown. They charged each other, blades flashing in the evening sun.

Nya began with a vicious stab to John's sternum, instead of blocking, John spun to the side, using the momentum to swing his blade at Nya's head. She blocked the blow, but the force of the sword swing created a deafening peal, ringing throughout the air as their steel blades ground against each other, the metallic scream of blades clashing again and again as John and Nya traded blows. The audience watched with growing tension at the display of skill. Nya moved with speed and ferocity belying her beauty and small form, and John moved with grace, fluidity, and flexibility none would imagine such a tall boy could achieve. Eventually, a winner began appearing between the two. Nya landed a scratch on John's shoulder, then a cut on his forearm, a slice on his cheek, and eventually nearly landed a killing blow as she kicked away the flat of John's blade and stabbed to his face. John blocked with his buckler, glancing the blow away.

The tide of battle shifted at that moment, Jonathan began to swing both his sword and shield, attacking in a wide and sweeping fashion as he danced across the battlefield. Nya at first tried to attack in the gaps, but her momentum was weak. A stab to the gut hit the armor as he rotated, causing the blow to glance off and only a little bit of damage to show in the meter, on his end, his shield swung, smashing into her face and knocking her over, reducing nearly a third of the shield meter. John mid-spin rose his blade into the air to bring it crashing down, but Nya pulled out three throwing knives, launching it at John's face and causing him to have to move to deflect the knives, two were batted away but one hit his forearm, dealing a chunk of his barrier's health. Nya leaned back then leapt up. 5 knives this time were launched John's way as he blocked with his blade and buckler, Nya charged forward, sword-swinging artfully in tandem with her knife throws. John began to grunt in frustration, every time he attempted to charge forward, knives accurately aiming for his vitals blocked his path, if he deflected them, he'd barely have time to block, if he tried to tank the blows by shifting were the knives would hit, doing so would slow him down enough for Nya to back away from his attacks. John continued attacking Nya, confident that she would run out of knives. Eventually, her throws began to slow down, with less frequent throws and fewer knives thrown per attack, he grew bolder, attacking with great speed again. Eventually, he forced Nya against a wall, keeping her from dodging left or right. Nya threw a blade his way and he blocked with his buckler, only to trip over a knife stuck in between the floor tiles. As he stumbled, he barely saw the pommel of Nya's knife as it smashed into his face, tearing out a massive chunk of his wards. His hold on his sword loosened, and Nya capitalized on that, kicking and knocking the blade from his hand. John rolled backward to avoid Nya's swing, reaching for anything that could slow down her attacks. His hand grasped a knife, and he threw it at her.

Nya laughed as she deflected the blow with a flick of the blade, but the movement had bought John enough time to take out his whip. He launched hit forward, snapping at Nya with enough speed to catch her off guard, the whip struck her in the face, close to the eyes, with enough accuracy that Nya's gage nearly dropped to less than a tenth.

"You've learned some new tricks." Nya laughed, throwing some knives at John, who arced the whip, deflecting them all.

"Thanks." The two charged forward once more.

Nya narrowed her eyes, John's whip wasn't made of leather, it looked like metal fibers lined the item, allowing him to block blows from her sword. When not furled out, the whip was rapidly wrapped around Jonathan's arm, allowing him to block her swings. When out, it had greater range and speed than her sword, and his accuracy was astounding. Nya was finally again put on the defensive, she lacked the grace, speed, or reach to fully block the whip and still attack John, and she knew that in a battle of stamina, she'd eventually lose, even if it took hours.

"You know, this is smart, you're stronger and have more stamina, but I've always been faster, so you learned the whip to take away that advantage because, without magic, even I can't see how fast that whip moves." Jonathan's whip cracked as if to punctuate her statement. "But…" As Nya continued to dodge and avoid John's attacks, she leapt to the side, rolling and grabbing Johnathan's sword. She grimaced as he held the sword. "John… this blade weighs the same as mine, why?"

Jonathan smiled apologetically, "I'm trying to surpass you, remember, so I'll utilize the same constraints."

Nya shook her head, "Little cousin, I'm going to remind you again, we aren't the same, don't fight by my standards, as it is, this weapon is more helpful to me than to you or anyone else." She charged forward. With a weapon in both hands, she had the reach and speed to deflect, block, and hold against Johnathan's whip, though now that Johnathan no longer had to worry about dodging or blocking knife throws, he attacked with greater tempo and ferocity. Despite the speed of the whip, two swords could meet out more attacks and could cover more immediate space. John extended the whip, snapping it back then sliding part of it over his arm, causing it to snap again at a slightly shorter length. Both blows were deflected as Nya charged forward. The victory was in her eyes, causing her to nearly miss the shift in John's movements as he stabbed the bo-staff forward. She moved her blades into a cross formation to block the staff, but the force knocked her back. Spinning the staff, John leapt forward, preparing a finishing blow. But as quickly as John could sheath his whip and unsheath his staff, Nya was quicker, drawing her bow and firing. The arrow caught John in the neck mid windup, and he was colored in a grey light, freezing him in place, as the barrier depleted.

"Winner… Nya Velmonti!" The crowd roared in approval, cheering the efforts of both fighters. As John was let to the ground, he had a complicated expression on. As he looked at Nya, his eyes cooled, and he smiled, bowing to her, she bowed in return and made a move to hand him his sword, but he shook his head.

"Next time, I'll use everything I have, with a sword meant for me." He declared.

Nya smirked, "I'm looking forward to it."

…

Tartarus was impressed, their movements weren't fast, but their technique was sound. The woman capitalized on Faris's teachings, and the boy is more skilled than his first spar with Faris would imply, their skill with multiple weapons really made a difference… perhaps the way Faris fights with his multiple weapons could use work. I would have relied on his style, pulling out a new weapon every few seconds to keep the opponent guessing, but the ability to quickly change between a small number of weapons may be better in the long run, or… rather. Tartarus shook his head, smirking, Shades are higher beings, I can do both at once, I have a deep understanding of all the weapons anyways, my only limit is this unworthy vessel, and even weaker mind. Even now, Faris attempted to strike out to the surface, he had threatened to break through when Tartarus was interacting with Venka, but the thrill of seamlessly fooling the girl and her friends while Faris cried tears of blood and destroyed himself against Tartarus's void filled the shade with enough glee and motivation to maintain a straight face as he stamped down Faris's resistance. It was in this good mood that he recognized the gait of the human about to fight.

"Who's that?" He asked. The person he pointed out had an extremely child-like face, but he was wide and muscular, but was also quite short, shorter than Faris even, like a teenaged or child dwarf. He had short black hair and a circular scar on his cheek.

Morgan was the one to look first, "Oh, the short one? That's Minstrel Lent, he's the child of a minor noble, short and stocky like a dwarf, so he's somewhat famous, he's a mage apprentice, but he's remained as a copper-initiate for three years, why?"

"Oh, no reason." Tartarus laughed to himself as he watched the boy fight, his way of leaping and swiping the dagger reminiscent of someone he, well, Faris fought not too long ago, in fact, the scar likely came from the whipping brought upon him by coat hangars.

Faris's friends got up.

"We're leaving, we're catching up with Nya and are heading over to a tavern for some food, aren't you coming?" Morgan gathered his things and made sure everything was on as he stood up.

Tartarus laughed, "Nope, I kinda want to see where this fight goes."

The others looked down at the arena, the fight was decent, but neither fighter was competent. "Literally any one of us could trounce either of them, except Bartholomew of course," Seya said quietly.

"Hey!" Bartholomew said, hurt by her words, he had been slimming down from added exercise recently and was proud of his efforts. "I'm doing my best."

With a light push, Katya tipped over his bag, and a half-eaten rotisserie chicken fell out. Silence filled the air...


	26. Chapter 26

The battle was decent enough, the crowd cheered and clapped politely, but it was obvious that the fight between Minstrel and his opponent was considered to be mediocre when compared to the skills and showmanship displayed by Nya and John. Minstrel had won, but he had a bitter look on his face as he left the pavilion. Many fighters laughed behind his back as he left, and he slowly walked out of the stadium and into the city. He stopped by a bread shop.

"Ah… Minstrel, I heard you finally passed the preliminaries for the great games, you were so young last time, it's good that you've made it." The large man smiled as he took out a large loaf of bread stuffed with a sweet syrup.

Minstrel smiled, "Thanks Butch, I won my first fight."

"Oh! Good job young man! But you look upset, did the crowd not appreciate your efforts?"

Minstrel's face twisted, "Well, they did… but two really talented swordsmen came before me, they were so good, I don't hold a candle to them."

"Oh hush!" Butch shouted, causing Minstrel to flinch, "you train every day, I've seen you swing your blade hundreds of times, make those silly but difficult footsteps every day, I'm proud of your effort, your win is a demonstration of your talent and hard work."

Minstrel's smile widened, "Yes… you're right! Thanks, Butch." He took a massive bite off of the loaf, causing the baker to laugh.

"Alright, glad I could give you a pep talk. You be good now! It's getting dark." He waved off the boy, who ate the bread and walked down the street, humming a tune. As he made his way down the streets he'd walked for years, he broke habit, taking a turn into a narrow alleyway. Soon, the sound of the city and talking was dimmed by the distance, leaving only the sound of footsteps over shallow water and crunchy dirt, eventually, he stopped, licking his fingers and turning around. Gone were the innocent eyes of youth, cruel, hardened eyes that had seen the horrors of the world took their place as he glared at the boy who tailed him. As his eyes met those of his stalker, he flinched. The pain, rage, insanity, and despair reflected within those violet eyes left him feeling fear, the intensity in those eyes were different, the face was the same, he recognized the face, the boy, but those eyes, it was someone different, something dangerous, something red.

Tartarus grinned as he saw the fear in Minstrel's eyes. "Long time no see, I'm here to make a deal Minstrel."

Minstrel's response was to ring out every death spell he knew, he took out a dagger, charging towards Faris at the same time, his movements now leagues apart from the pitiful performance he displayed in the tournament earlier.

Tartarus's response was to smash a rotting wood plank into Minstrel's face. The young man flew back as the plank shattered in Tartarus's hands. As Minstrel fell, Tartarus straddled him, striking him in several pressure points. Minstrel eventually shook Tartarus off, but as he tried getting up Tartarus kicked him in the jaw. "A little different from the last confrontation, wouldn't you say?" Tartarus smirked, winding up his leg and kicking Minstrel in the groin. He chuckled as the would-be assassin collapsed in pain. Tartarus grabbed Minstrel by the hair, "apt that you were named Minstrel by your mother, an up and coming but highly respected musician who passed away a few years after childbirth. Your father abused and neglected you, leading to your stunted growth, and despite your efforts and talents, the opportunity passed you by. You are an excellent dancer but considered too ugly and stocky for work in a theater. You have a good grasp on the ancient language, but terrible magical capacity and efficiency. And most unfortunately, you are an excellent weapon user, but your talents were found by the wrong people, and you can't demonstrate your efforts to the world, truly a miserable existence." Tartarus laughed, "I pity you, who fate decided to turn its back on, but unfortunately for you, you aimed for my life."

"Then kill me." Minstrel said calmly, his chest burned with rage at Faris's words, but he could not fight against the boy. "Isn't that why you're here?"

"Oh? Why would you think that?" Tartarus tightened his grip on Minstrel's short brown hair.

"I… I was hired to silence you, you recognized my movements, but you have no guards with you, this means you care more about vengeance than justice for the dwarves, or… you have a third motive."

Tartarus blinked in surprise, then grinned widely, "You are smart…" He whispered something, causing Minstrel's face to go blank.

"What… what were those words?!" He shouted.

"Your essence, who you are, I learned of your backstory from various sources, watched you fight, fought you twice, and have spoken to you, I knew enough to guess, and if I was wrong, there are only a few dozen possible options, you're too young for your true name to be very long anyway."

"But… that's impossible!" Minstrel had learned about true names, but he also read that it was almost impossible to determine one's true name, and even more impossible to find the true name of someone else, it required experience and wisdom beyond a human lifespan. "What are you?!" He screamed at Faris.

Tartarus laughed, Faris and he had more than 50 lives lost to them who's experiences were absorbed, Tartarus had their memories, their tendencies, and their habits, from their small lives, he could make a baseline understanding of the human condition, and combined his findings with his understanding of his host, Faris. With all that combined with the fact that Tartarus was a Shade, a being who understood the principles of magic without any assistance, and Tartarus could likely glean the true name of several people. Minstrel's name was surprisingly ugly and beautiful, representing both his dreams and inner nature, and his evils and vices, he loved the pain on Minstrel's face as he repeated the word, binding the mage-assassin to Tartarus's will and forcing him to swear fealty in the ancient language.

"...Damnit…" Minstrel felt tears welling up as he struggled in vain, the words Tartarus forced him to speak were binding.

"Yes… you must follow my orders without fail, as for my first order…" Tartarus got off the young man, smirking as he dusted himself off. "Purchase communication crystals, as small and discreet as you can, meet me in this alley in 2 hours with those crystals, failure to adhere?" Tartarus was lost in thought, then rose a finger as if he achieved some great enlightenment, "That man you call Butch? If you fail to adhere, I'll order you to kill him." The look of horror in Minstrel's eyes made Tartarus giggle, "I'll be waiting for an answer, if I'm not here in 2 hours, wait." Tartarus turned to leave.

"W-wait!" Minstrel stuttered out, "How… how did you resist the spells of death! I heard you lost your magic!"

Tartarus laughed in response, "you aren't worthy of an answer, but you seem clever, so figure it out on your own." He turned to leave, his white sapphire ring illuminated by the street lights, which cast a warm light over the streets lining the capital of the nation.

Tartarus stopped by a medicine store. The storekeeper flinched when she saw him. "You.. you're Faris right?! You did amazing during your match, and that run earlier today! Wow!"

Tartarus laughed lightly, voice taking a polite tone. "Oh, thank you, it was tough, but I pulled through." He took out a sheet of paper and began scrawling a few things down. "I need… these items please."

The apothecarian read the notes, looking up at Faris oddly, "Oh, those are rare medicines, what are you using them for?"

Tartarus smiled lightly, "One of the grannies near my home has a very bad head-and-toothache, her sister told me to get her these, I have the money now if that's the issue."

"No no, I have them." The woman smiled at Faris, "Yes, these are pretty good for head-and-toothaches, but if you don't mix it well and the temperature isn't good enough, it will give you a bad stomach ache."

Tartarus smiled brightly, "Thanks! I understand!" The woman handed him the items, a few roots, a flower, and what looked to be a moldy rope, placed them in a bag, and handed it over to him. Tartarus paid her and walked out slowly.

…

_"I… still have about an hour and a half to return to that place…" Within Faris's mindscape, Tartarus was in deep thought, "what a fun world, humans are hypocritical and short sighted, he cares about his few close to him, but would let ally nations attempt to tear each other apart, which could endanger this kingdom even more." He turned to Faris, crippled and chained, "Quite funny, wouldn't you agree?"_

_"...Shut it!" Faris struggled against the chains, his mind roaring as he fought to reassert dominance over his mind._

_"Touchy subject, do my words hurt you? Perhaps the truth of the human condition weakens your nerves?"_

_Faris simply glared at the Shade, despite the appearance within this shared inner mindscape, the fight between the two of them was close._

_"The worst part is you seem to be stimulating the false egos…" Tartarus murmured. Those killed by Faris and Tartarus, who also had their memories from birth until death absorbed, developed into pockets of personality, false lives that interacted with and attempted to pull on Faris's psyche, with the loss of his magic, Faris had lost much of the strength that allowed him to remain fully himself, and the Faris that Tartarus took over, at least, the Faris on the outside, was a markedly different person due to the amalgam of emotions and personalities within him. "But… you wouldn't want it to return to normal, would you? I mean, they stoked your temper, your egotism, and your ignorance, you were like a fierce hawk tied down by feathers meant for ducks, flippers instead of talons, and a bill instead of the beak. The sharp beast, attempting to attack and destroy me now? I appreciate this type of creature more."_

_..._

Tartarus put away the ring Weyonna gave him as he opened the door to Gurant's house. What met him was a tearful Bianca and a sad-looking Dustin.

"Faris!" Marla shouted in surprise and anguish, "Please! Help her!"

"Help who?" Tartarus asked, confused, he allowed them to drag him deeper into the room. What waited for him there was Minnie, covered in horrific injuries and several bandages. Martha and Yura were attending to her at the moment, and even Gurant, who stated he hated animals, was quiet and tense, sitting a bit away. "Minnie?" Tartarus asked incredulously.

_I knew this werecat was young, but to be this incompetent?_

"Are you okay?" He fell to his knees, reaching over gently.

_My god, only an idiot would allow this level of injury._

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, you must have been overwhelmed."

_Stupid, her chance of surviving past this night is slim._

"You'll make it, okay big girl? I'm here, I promise, I'll save you."

_Stupid cat, stupid women as well, they attempted to nurse it? Pft, their attempts were laughable at best._

Martha and Yura watched as Faris smiled sadly at them, "Thanks so much for finding her, she would be in worse trouble if not for you."

They nodded, "It… it was no problem." Martha said quietly.

"Faris… you can save her, right?" Dustin asked.

_Why would these brats even give a crap?_ Tartarus thought as he smiled gently, he rubbed their hair, "It's alright, I'll do my best." _I'll pull some crap show, well… I did want to see how their body ticks, I guess after the 'botched surgery', I'll say it was able to recover and left, then find somewhere to dissect it._ He maintained his sad smile as he looked down at Minnie. Minnie peeked at him, his eyes held no warmth, the coldness within those eyes terrified Minnie, and she felt remorse for thinking that this monster who took over Faris was equivalent as long as she could achieve her goals. But she was too weak to fight against him, feeling like a trapped prey animal, she couldn't help but sit as tears fell down her face.

Tartarus's first thought was that his dissection would prove fruitful, from what he knew, normal cats didn't have tear ducts and couldn't express emotions in any way, werecats would therefore have to be something a little different, though he had already imagined that their organ structure would be different from the norm. The second thought Tartarus would have had was replaced by a feeling of blinding pain as Faris tore through the Shade's mental walls, asserting dominance. The boy fell over, his head striking the floor hard enough to cut through skin and cause bleeding.

"Boy!" Gurant shouted in concern. Faris struggled to get up, eventually being helped by Martha and Yura. They observed him, worry in their eyes. Faris looked up at them, his eyes shaking as he nodded.

"I'm alright, get me some bandages please." He held his head, temple throbbing as he, with every fiber of his being, fought back against Tartarus. He turned to look at Minnie, who struggled to rear her head to face him. _"_Minnie..._Eka weohnata vardi un heill ono." (I will protect and heal you.)_ The words were difficult to let out, with Tartarus redoubling his efforts to strike back down Faris's mind, Faris eventually succumbed, but not before finishing his statement and ensnaring himself in his statement. Yura was the only one to notice Faris's pained face flash to hatred for just a second before turning calm.

Tartarus looked at everyone as they handed him the bandages, wrapping some around the wound in his head, he then created several tourniquets for Minnie's limbs. Silently, he picked Minnie up, ignoring her yowl of pain. "Shh… I'll, I'm getting help, a friend." Tartarus turned to Martha, "please put a cloak on us." His face was emotionless, causing even Martha to feel discomfort, but she covered him.

"Alright Faris, be safe."

Tartarus did not answer.

It was only until he was out of earshot that he began to curse. "Damnit you fool, you've bound yourself to a new oath, just to save this werecat? Why? Are you a deviant? You moron, you could only barely save her, from what? Now you've exposed us when I needed secrecy…" He eventually arrived at the entrance of the Alleyway, then walked further in. He noticed Minstrel, who looked as if he had waited for some time.

"Here…" Minstrel dropped the crystals in Tartarus's hand. "Can I go now?"

Tartarus smirked, "You work fast, but unfortunately, no." He dropped Minnie, causing her to yowl in more pain. "Shut the fuck up, beast."

Minstrel winced as he looked at the werecat's bruised body, and held a hand to his mouth when Tartarus ripped off all the bandaging.

"Shut the fuck up you assassin, you have no right to be squeamish, and you know it." Minstrel glare at Tartarus. "Heal it."

"...What?" Minstrel asked, surprised.

"You heard me… fucking heal it!" Tartarus commanded. Minstrel sighed, bending down and extending his hand out, as he did, his hands trembled.

"Are you deaf or just stupid? Heal it!" Tartarus demanded.

"I CAN'T!" Minstrel shouted back, "YOU SAID IT YOURSELF, I'M A MEDIOCRE STUDENT AT BEST!" His arms flopped down.

Tartarus's frown deepened. "Attack me mentally, NOW!" The quickness and force by which Minstrel struck reminded Tartarus that the incompetent before him was indeed an assassin and Minstrel first hand began to experience the famed mind of Faris. It took seconds for the young mage's defenses to be battered down, then seconds more for Minstrel's movements and control to no longer be his own.

Tartarus scanned Minnie's body through Minstrel's eyes, then he extended Minstrel's mind to Minnie's body, he began having the boy systematically heal the internal wounds first, moving from most life-threatening and going down the line until he reached the lightest of scratches. He had spared no effort, utilizing all of Minstrel's reserves till the boy could barely stand, then forcing him to reach into the reserves he saved into his crystal, taking away a good tenth of its reserves to heal Minnie.

Minstrel felt a tearing pain when Tartarus had entered his mind, the shade was cruel and merciless as he took control of Minstrel's body, it felt like white-hot pokers, so hot cold was also felt, stabbed through his veins. When he was forced to use magic, it felt like needles tore into his skin and mind, every second was an eternity, and when Faris's mind left him, he collapsed, exhausted and in pain.

"Pft… useless piece of crap, are you just a waste of breath? Get up!" Tartarus forced Minstrel up. "Haah." Tartarus sighed, he made a face as if he'd eaten or smelled something foul, and began speaking, "you are still in contact with those who hired you to sneak into the dwarf's lodgings and steal the statue, right?" Minstrel nodded. "Good, I expect a fairth of them in a few days, get out of my sight." He pushed Minstrel away then turned to the still laying down Minnie. "You, bitch…" He said, venom in his voice, "Get the fuck up now, I'm in no mood to pretend I'm exchanging pleasantries. You… you useless piece of garbage!" Tartarus struggled against the bindings keeping him from attacking Minnie, "How did you fucking loose?!"

Minnie was silent for a small bit, then tears began to well up again, this caused Tartarus's mood to drop as he cursed.

"You are a moron, let me guess, you lost all your cats as well?"

_No… they, a few stayed with me…_ Minnie's mental voice trembled, it betrayed her youth with how sad and despondent her voice was.

"Feh, a failure is a failure, you were so haughty too, that werecats were a higher species." Tartarus smirked, "look at you, two normal human women had to rescue you, and that fucking waste of breath," he pointed to Minstrel, who struggled to walk, exhausted as he was, "saved your fucking life, you know what this means now? We aren't doing things your way anymore." He hunched over, "nope, we're doing it my way."

_I see you didn't heed my warning._

"?" Tartarus turned, seeing a werecat that looked like a bobcat-sized Persian. He narrowed his eyes. "And who are you?"

The werecat licked a paw, preening itself as it spoke. _"I am Six-Claws. I assume you are the human who's rescued her, twice at this point."_

"Yeah, I did, not like I wanted to." Tartarus chuckled, "Anyways, I'm not in the mood, fuck off."

The werecat's fur bristled, _I cannot 'fuck off' unfortunately, I told this… trash, she had until nightfall to flee the city lest I kill her. I'm surprised she's walking, I thought I maimed her and she would die."_

Tartarus smiled, "It was you who did that to her? I'm impressed."

_Yes, whatever deal you had with her, it's not worth it, step aside human._

Tartarus grimaced, "I'd love to, but a fucking moron sold my soul away, so I couldn't kill her if I wanted to."

_I don't need you to kill her, I need you to step aside!_ The werecat charged forward.

Tartarus replied with a sword to the cat's neck, it barely dodged out of the way.

_Y-you dare interfere!_

Tartarus was already upon the creature again, eyes glowing red as he released the limits around his body. The blade swung with speeds even elves would have difficulty dodging. Six-claw barely moved out of the way, but received a long but shallow gash in his flank, he hissed in anger. Tartarus smiled before speaking, "I told you, I couldn't kill her if I wanted to, and I really want to kill her, so you'll do."

_Foolish human kit..._ Six claw began to circle Tartarus, who held his sword to his side lazily. _You'll die for insulting me!_ The werecat attacked with both mind and body. Its attacks ferocious and instinct-based. He was faster and stronger than any normal human and would have killed Tartarus if not for Faris's techniques.

Faris had spent the majority of his short life fighting those stronger than him, especially while he himself was weak. The tactics of the weak, movements to save stamina, struck that could move easily into guards, and short but quick movements saved Tartarus more than the shade would like to admit.

_This bastard's fighting style, well, it's useful when not fighting something like those enhanced freaks._ Tartarus frowned at the thought, and released the body's limit once more, slicing into Six-claw's flank. The werecat screamed in pain and collapsed. Tartarus smirked, then grimaced as his right arm exploded in pain, he turned to look at his dislocated right shoulder and elbow. _Fortunately, they did not shatter._ With a grunt, he popped first his shoulder, then his elbow back in place Turning to Minnie, he pointed his left hand at the werecat. "Finish him off."

_I...I can't! I wouldn't have killed him anyway! I would have forced him to flee._

Tartarus raised an eyebrow, disgust evident in his voice, "He left you for dead, fully expecting you to die, he gave you an ultimatum he knew you couldn't complete, so if those two harlots hadn't found you, you'd be dead by now, as he'd have torn your throat open. Kill him."

Tears began to well up in Minnie's eyes.

_Bah, you disgust me._ Six-claw hissed. _You first escape to the arms of a human, then you let him intercede on your behalf, now you don't have the guts to kill me? You truly are dishonorable._

_I… I don't want to kill you!_ Minnie's hair stood on end, but her body language signified fear, not anger. _I don't want to see my own killed, why do you hate me so much!_ Tears began to freely fall from the snow leopard werecat's face.

Six-claw answered brusquely, _You were abandoned by your mother, you were a runt, not fit for survival, then you dared to survive by staying with the Lessers, werecats are born with innate intelligence and instinct, you sacrificed those traits of your lineage to survive and eat, to the point you couldn't recognize your own kind, you are a disgusting pox amongst us, and that you'd have the audacity to pretend that you deserve to even think of rising to the place of the king is insulting. I'd rather die than watch that happen, especially as you insult this contest with the aid of a h- _His mental monologue was cut short by Tartarus stabbing his blade into the creature's flank.

"Pft… hypocrite, it brings tears to my eye, the image I had of werecats, lost… kukukuku…." Tartarus began to giggle and chuckle, snorting as he looked at Minnie. "This bastard is full of shit, they, at least the ones that conspired against you? They wagged their tails to humans, I was wondering, how, in a city with especially such high security, spies were able to move around so easily. Minnie, how did you first find Faris? Did you follow the smell of him?"

_I… I smelled a large number of cats in my territory, it was only after rescuing him that I got a good smell of him…well, of you._

Tartarus's eyes curved like half-moons as he turned to Six-claw. "You're going to give us all the information, in fact, you're going to swear to speak truthfully in the ancient language, I have all night, and you have ten digits and four limbs." He walked up to Six-claw, who's ears flattened in terror and hatred. The werecat lasted for an hour and a half, but eventually, it spoke in the ancient language, binding itself to truth, then confessed of its and its co-conspirator's crimes, then of what it knew of the human, and dwarven organizations behind all of the chaos.

"... Of the 100 or so werecats in this city, how many are working with you."

_...32._

"How many of the werecats not associated have you killed or sacrificed in exchange for aid?"

_"I…"_ Six-claw was in his cat form by this point again, he had attempted to plead for mercy due to werecats appearing as children, but his plan failed, the monster before him simply cut him with greater vigor, his eyes were gouged out, ears scratched to literal ribbons of flesh, tendons were destroyed, and bones jut out in a few places, the fact he was still alive was a miracle, and clinging to the promise that Tartarus would not kill him if he complied, mixed with his ancient language oath, forced him to speak. "_I...we entreated 6 werecats to join us, and targetted 10 who we considered unworthy, the 6 rejected us, all 16… were collected…"_

Tartarus turned to Minnie and grinned widely at what he saw. She was in a humanoid form, she was bewitchingly beautiful, like a ghost-like fairy from a great artist's painting, her skin was as pale as the moon, her hair so white it seemed to glow in the darkness, her silvery eyelashes were long, and her cheeks had a slight blush. Her lips, pale pink and lush, were stretched in a grimace, and her small elegant nose was wrinkled as she glared at the dying Six-claws with an unseen before rage and hatred.

"Who…" Her voice was surprisingly soft, belying her true youth. Six-claw trembled. "Who did you kill?!" She screamed, voice cracking in rage and shame."

Six-claw heard the sound of Tartarus's sword swinging through the air and began to belt out a list of 16 names. On the 14th, when he uttered the word Pastel, Minnie began to scream and cry out in agony. Tartarus merely grinned wider as Six-claw shivered.

"Well…" Tartarus began, "Thanks for your assistance, and, as per our agreement, I won't kill you." He handed his sword to Minnie. She stared at it blankly, then looked into Tartarus's eyes.

"You are a devil." She whispered, "A monster born of hatred and boredom, you seek to cause hurt whenever you can, but you are bound by an oath made by my friend to keep me alive, I could kill you right now and put him out of his misery." She raised the blade to his neck, cutting into it slightly, blood began to seep down, Tartarus narrowed his eyes, but made no move to defend himself, eventually, Minnie's arm began to tire.

Tartarus grinned wider, "But you and I both know that you hate Faris now, you hate him too much to grant him that kindness, we all are living beings, so…" He stroked her head, "Be selfish every once in a while, we sorry sinners have suffered long enough." He turned to look at Six-claw, face impassive.

Minnie raised Faris's sword high, tears streaming down her twisted face. Tartarus's face softened slightly, his eyes still sharp, watching as she brought the blade down...


End file.
